Dial Tones
by LonelyGirlWritings
Summary: He had never imagined that one phone call would have changed his life this drastically, especially to a girl like this. Tale as old as time characters with a modern day twist. READ MY BIO.
1. Chapter 1

**Dial Tones**

Yet another story to keep me busy. This one is an exciting one! Modern day setting. Rating for sexual themes and language.

I do not own Phantom of The Opera or any of the characters. I just like the characters a lot.

Summary:

_He had never imagined that one phone call would have changed his life this drastically, especially to a girl like this. Tale as old as time characters with a modern day twist. _

**CandyLand**

Erik's hand shook as he picked up his iPhone off of the desk, slouching in his chair. He didn't understand why he was doing this. Yes, he did. He was tired of being teased at work for not, "Getting any." Well, if it weren't for his mask, he would probably be getting some. Perhaps it had to do with his sheer unexperienced nervousness whenever a woman approached him. He was always one for the hermit life. He never went to social events and when he did, he would give a statement for the press, then quietly slip out into the night. Sure, the side of his face that was uncovered wasn't too ghastly. At least, he thought it wasn't. No one stuck around him long enough to tell him otherwise. The one girl he did go on a date with agreed to go on a date with him solely for the purpose of being able to tell her friends that she went on a date with a foreigner. The thoughts of everything that had transpired over his lonely and solitude live swirled in his head as he tapped his finger on the screen of his phone. He doesn't even remember how he got here. Some guy at work this morning gave him this information. He thought it over for a long time for the whole day, in fact. On the way home from work, he decided he would take the leap of faith and make the call. Something new, perhaps he thought to himself. He glanced at his laptop screen, the number taunting his dilated, red eyes. Slowly, with a shaky hand he dialed.

"This is Candy and you've just entered Candyland. How can I make your night sweeter?" The feminine voice purred on the other line. He let out an airy breath, his mind clouded with so many other things than the task at hand. "Hello? Has my caller disappeared?" Her voice was silky, like the sweetest chocolate, melting on his tongue.

"I... My... You're... Hi..." All he managed to squeeze out were four measly words. She giggled on the other end, smacking her gum loudly as he pulled away from the phone in strain of the loud popping noise she had just made.

"I my you're hi? Can I have your name, baby?" Viciously, he nodded only imagining what this girl looked like. He pictured her blonde, blue eyed and pale skinned. Maybe she was dark skinned, black haired that flowed down to her lower back. His imagination was running wild.

"E-Erik. My n-name is Erik Des- Just Erik." She hummed in response, earning a low groan from the back of his throat. "I-I'm sorry, I don't k-know why I called. This was silly! I should go, now. I can't believe I did this." Mentally smacking himself in the forehead for ever attempting something as rambunctious as this, Erik began to hang up before her precious voice rang out once more.

"Wait, Erik! I can tell that you're new at this sort of thing. It's okay to be nervous. Here, let me calm you down. How old are you?" Her voice had turned into something deeper in timber, yet softer in resonance. He took a deep breath, scratching his brow.

"I'm, uh, thirty one. How old are you?" She paused for a moment, shifting wherever she was seated or laying. She was mostly definitely was taken by surprise at his age. Most men that called were either far older or far younger. Most men that were in his age range _rarely _called.

"Ummmm... I'm twenty four, almost twenty five. My birthday is next month. What is a thirty one year old doing calling a place like this?" She laughed slightly, exhaling another nervous sigh. "Actually Erik, don't answer that."

"N-No, I will. I don't go on many dates. In fact, I've only been on o-one. I've never been kissed... This would h-have been the closest thing to been k-kissed..." He trailed off as she obviously gasped on the other side. Shaking his head, he stood to go to his small bar. "I k-know you're not here, but do you want something to d-drink?" With an anxious chuckle, he awaited her response.

"Have a vodka martini with extra olives for me, Erik. You sound handsome, I'm surprised you haven't been on more dates. You shouldn't be ashamed of calling a place like this. I'm not ashamed of working at a place like this. What do you do for a living?" It was apparent that he wasn't going to get the release he wanted tonight, but he no longer felt the desire for it. He much more longed for a decent conversation with this girl.

"I'm a composer. Exciting, huh? Do you have any other jobs?" She laughed once more. Boy, did he think her laugh was infectious. It was harmonious, far more beautiful than anything he'd ever composed.

"You're a c-composer? Have you done any Broadway musicals? My dream is to be center stage on Broadway!" Her excitement was invigorating. He smiled widely, plopping down on the edge of his bed as he stirred his... Her vodka martini with extra olives.

"Oh, no. I've never done a Broadway musical. I've mostly done movie scores, operas... You're a singer, then?" Downing the martini, he cringed at the after taste. He never was too fond of martinis.

"I wish! I waitress when I'm not on the phone. That's so exciting. Where did you study music?" Her elation was enticing as he set the martini glass down on his bedside. Laying down on his bed, he loosened his tie and closed his eyes.

"I studied in Paris and London. I was born in Paris and then I studied music there until I was eighteen. I then moved to London until I was twenty five. Thus, beginning my American adventure. I got a job to compose some operas here in New York. The pay was good and the penthouse was amazing. Needless to say, America is no Paris or London. Where did you study... Phone calling?" She snorted loudly, apologizing profusely for her actions.

"I went to college in California, then moved out here with my roommate. Planning on going to music graduate school, but it was too expensive. I've been saving up for what? Three or four years now... Anyway, what did your parents say when you moved so far away?" He could her movement as if she was getting under her blankets. With a calming sensation looming all around him, he exhaled in relief.

"I never knew my father and my mother and I... Well, I don't speak to her much anymore. My assistant speaks to her more than I do, as he takes care of most of my business. I have him send her money every month, so she doesn't go into debt. If she ever goes into debt, she'd just call me more than I already don't want her to." Earning a laugh, He glanced at my clock.

1:53am. Already? Erik yawned, remembering that he had an morning rehearsal. "I would love to stay up and chat, but I have rehearsal in the morning. Do you think we could talk again sometime?" He awaited impatiently for her answer, only to be happily surprised by the outcome.

"Of course. I'll give you my cell phone number. I won't charge you for this call, seeing that we didn't actually have phone sex, which by the way... Thank you. I was actually dreading tonight. I had a rough day at work. You know, some customers can be very rude." He laughed slightly, embarrassed by the original intention of the call.

"Phone sex or not, you sweetened my night anyway. I never got your name, though... I could call you Candy, if you want. It's up to you." She took a deep breath, nervously pausing. "Oh and by the way, Happy Early Birthday." With a deep blush, she smiled deeply at his comment. She never realized that he was one to remember the details.

This had never happened before. So many times men had called, never caring about her in the end. He was different. She knew by the sound of his voice that this phone call was going to be different and she was so glad that it was. She didn't know what possessed her to keep him on the line. Maybe it was his vulnerability and intense nervousness. No, it wasn't pity. It was something else that she just couldn't place her tongue on just yet. She had never felt this way towards a customer. They usually called, did the deed, paid and hung up on her. He had a caring voice, once she got him to calm down a few notches. Only dreading tonight, she was so glad that she didn't call in sick, like she almost did. How serendipitous a meeting this phone call was!

Finally, she worked up the courage to reply to him. After relaying to him some personal information, she cleared her throat and nestled into her blankets, hoping and praying that her mystery man would soon call her again.

"My name is Christine and thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Leave A Message**

* * *

He had been copiously trying to get _at least _part of the new score of _some_ opera he was asked to compose finished before he even thought of calling Christine. Yet, it had seemed so that the universe had different plans for the pair. For the first time in his life, no music stirred in that busy mind of his, not even half of a sixteenth note. He was agonized, past the point of mere frustration. He cursed the God or gods that pulled him away from his cell phone that lay so boringly on his bedside table. "Fuck it," He thought, grumbling Italian more foreign curse words as he staggered away from the useless piano that failed him for more than five consecutive days, making his way over to the cushioned bed that called him by name. Searching through his phone, his fingertips finally stumbled upon the sweet lettering of his saving grace.

"I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," She breathed out, her voice shaking from nervousness, maybe relief. He didn't know.

"N-No. I could never forget you, Christine." That was true, she hadn't left his mind since his originally phone call. "I was asked to compose this new o-opera and I've been trying for a w-week to get some of it finished, b-but my brain is f-failing me." He stuttered out, still so mesmerized by the glossiness her voice carried.

"I understand completely, Erik. I have a question for you." His heart began to pound, his hand twitching causing him to almost drop his phone. "Don't worry, you're not in trouble." She giggled tenderly, earning a chill down his spine. Her tone was almost motherly, innate within her core.

"O-Okay. Ask away, Christine." She paused for a moment, moving something he did not recognize.

"Why are you so nervous? Do you think I'm going to hurt you or something? I know this is only our second phone call, but you're still so nervous..." Her voice hushed as she mumbled something inaudible to Erik's ear. He took a deep breath, exhaling ever-so-slowly before he shut his eyes, bracing himself for the most pathetic answer he could give her.

"I am n-not experienced with w-women, over the p-phone or in person. Forgive me, Christine. Does my nervousness d-disgust you?" He could only think of his mask and how she would respond if she saw him in person. He skulked at the reality of the matter.

"No! I think it's cute," She inhaled sharply, cursing underneath her breath. "Erik, I hate to cut the fun short, but I must go. I have to get to my... Other job. Will you call me again sometime? I would love to talk to you more." His heart swelled in the pit of his stomach, a sensation he had never felt before.

"Of course, C-Christine. I look forward to speaking with you a-again. I promise n-not to keep you w-waiting. Well, not long a-anyway." With an airy sigh, the curve of his lips formed a small smile as he glanced down at his shoes.

"Goodnight, Erik." The phone clicked and almost instantaneously, he exhaled with a melancholy release. Thoughts of Christine circled his head as he fell back onto his bed, rubbing his uncovered eye. Throwing his phone down next to him, he stood up and headed back to his piano, just hoping that hearing her voice again was enough to inspire some sort of harmonious melody.

"Goodnight, Christine."

The next day dragged on and to his dismay, no music was formed. Awakened by the harsh pounding at his door, he smacked his dry misshapen lips. His back cracked uncomfortably as he arose from his piano bench, stretching his arms over his head. Glaring at the piano, he made is lethargic journey to the front door. There stood his business assistant, Nadir Khan. In his hands were two cups of steaming hot coffee. Nadir let himself in, scanning the pristine penthouse. He knew that Erik never was one to leave a mess around. Walking over the piano, he sighed greatly and the trash bin that was chock full of crumpled up sheet music. Handing Erik one cup of coffee, they made their way over the black leather couch and sat in silence for about ten minutes. Soon, the man sitting against from Mr. Khan parted his lips in defense, knowing he was going to receive a lashing from his mostly- always right assistant. (Though, he never liked to admit it.)

"I have come up with _nothing_ in six days and I know you have come here to gather a partly finished score, but Nadir I must tell you I do not have one. I have been uninspired in the last six days. Nothing has come to mind. The ever lugubrious work I out into sleepless nights has been for nothing, since I have come up with nothing. I do not even remember the plot of the show, to be perfectly frank." He took a sip of his coffee, wincing at the temperature as it seethed down his throat. Nadir nodded, listening to his testimony.

"I understand that it's quite difficult to compose when you're uninspired. Have you tried meditating?" The masked man nodded, taking another gulp of coffee. "It would help if you knew the plot of the opera, wouldn't it?" He shrugged, finished off the cup of coffee. Throwing it into the waste basket beside him, he relaxed back into the couch.

"Know the plot or not, inspiration is inspiration. I've tried to draw on my past life and it has done me no good. Nadir, I am at a loss. This has never happened to me! There is no music in my mind. It's empty, _completely_ empty." He threw his hands up in the air, surrendering to his imminent defeat.

"I am sure you will find something to write about, Erik." With a generous nod, Nadir stood to his feet. "I've only come to tell you that your mother is demanding a higher... Allowance, if I may. She's threatened to come to the office." Taking small paces to the door, the masked man led him to the door.

"Give her whatever she wants. I don't care, I just don't want to deal with her. Shall I see you tomorrow?" The man shrugged, opening the door, giving a polite nod. Exiting into the hallway, he turned and smiled, waving as he made his way into the narrow corridor.

"Possibly."

* * *

After The Persian man left, the composer took his mask off, hoping for some fresh air. The breeze of the air conditioner hit his scarred face, creating a comfortable sensation. Maybe that's what he needed to write. Heading into the bathroom, he began discarding his clothing. Soon, he was fully nude and standing in front of the shower. Yes, a shower will clear your mind. His shower was brief, he never liked to take long showers and waste water. Changing into a loose t-shirt and jeans, he made his way over to his phone that rested on the desk chair.

_One New Message _

Pressing the call button, he listened intently.

"Hey Erik, it's Christine! I'm sorry I left our conversation so abruptly last night. My phone calling ours were about to start and you just so conveniently called," A hint of sarcasm he noticed. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to lunch sometime. Maybe dinner? I don't know. I feel like I've known you for years... Gosh... _What am I doing_? This is crazy. I know you would never want to meet up with a girl like me. Us people, we'd never be tangled up in the same circle. We've had two phone calls and I'm already asking you out, huh? I should just go. Anyway, call me again sometime, Erik." Her voice was frantic, yet calming in a way. He smiled widely at her message, finally looking for what he'd been searching for the last six days. Enlightened at his new found discovery, he threw his phone on his bed and cheered for joy in the caverns of his mind.

_We'd never be tangled up in the same circle. _

As he ran over to his piano, he began to viciously compose, never stopping. Relentlessly, he could hear the orchestra, the symphony in his head once more. His fingers lusted over the white keys, thirsted for the black keys as he so methodically poured his soul into the music he wrote. He could hear it, perfectly to his liking. The strings in an angelic andante rallentando. It was celestial, the composition he had envisioned. His attention was solely focused on the inked sheet music that were presented before him, nothing else mattered. His body moved in synchronization with the music he heard in his head, unleashed on the keys below him. He couldn't think of a more perfect hook for his opera, yet one thing was missing from his almost perfect composition: a voice. The vile screech the keys made in his realization almost negated his opera entirely as he stood to his feet, almost leaping towards his phone on the other side of his penthouse. Grabbing his phone in pure vivacity, he dialed in anticipation, only hoping his saving grace would once again answer his prayers.

"Hello, Erik." Her voice was unsteady, possibly more unsettling than anything. He thought nothing of it, though. There were more pressing matters that needed to be dealt with.

"Christine, I got your message. I... I wish to meet you as well... Are you available r-right now?" He breathed out, almost lacking oxygen from his grand jump from his piano bench.

"Umm... Yes? Are you okay? You sound like you've just ran a marathon." Truly, her jokes were _hilarious,_ but there wasn't time to laugh.

"No, I've been composing. I get all j-jittery when I compose. I need you to come o-over for me. I need a singer. It is the _only _way to know if my composition fits together, C-Christine." She hesitated for a moment. How was she to know if he was being truthful? She would have liked it more if they met in public. Yet, she thought again, he didn't seem like most men. With a sigh, she began to gather her things.

"Yes, I will come over to help you. You remembered that I sang..." She mumbled, hoping that he didn't hear her.

"I remember everything you tell me." He stated as a matter-of-fact, pacing the floor so hard he could walk a hole right into the lacquered wooden floor beneath him.

"I must tell you something, though. I had wished that we were in a more formal setting... Than over the phone... It seems like everything I do these days is over the phone..." Nervousness struck him as he froze in his place. Nothing could be worse than Erik telling her that he wore a mask. Could it?

"I must tell you something as well, b-but you go first." She exhaled, running a distressed hand through her curly hair.

"Why don't we say what we have to say at the same time?" Erik shrugged, he thought that was the better idea.

"Very w-well." With a deep breath, he braced himself for the sudden reveal of his secret.

"I have a son. His name is Parker."

"I wear a m-mask to hide a facial deformity I acquired at birth."

It was so silent, you could hear the drop of a piece of floating dust land on the floor on either end of the call. Erik was still, Christine was still. The whole world remained still, their eyes on the pair. Only the sounds of their breathing indicated that they both acknowledged their existences. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Erik cleared his throat and began once more, in a glimmer of minuscule hope that she would still grace him with her ethereal, yet somehow simultaneously and most humbling presence.

"I can't wait to meet him."

* * *

**A/N: Hi! I have absolutely adored writing this. **

**- Thank you to my one reviewer so far, you know who you are! **

**- I do not own Phantom of The Opera or any of the characters. I just like them a lot. **

**- More to come, I'll update as much as I can. I am in the middle of moving houses and getting ready to go to college! (Out of state, I might add...) Anyway, I will be quite busy in these next few weeks. I do have two other stories to keep me busy. **

**I love you all! **

*** A **


	3. Chapter 3

**Caller ID**

* * *

His head was reeling as he awaited Christine's response, beginning to pace once more. As if the news of her son was not enough for his mind to wrap around in such a short time. Nevertheless, his heart's nervous flutters were solely dedicated to the reveal of his protective mask he fashions twenty four-seven. Not protection for himself per se, but for the protection of everybody else's sanity, he chose at a very young age to begin to make masks to shield their eyes from the sheer horror that lay beneath the porcelain. He wouldn't even begin to think of what her son was going to think once he laid eyes on his mask. Fuck, he was barely ready for Christine's eyes to look upon his face. Three phone calls and now the pair were to meet, it all seemed so surreal. Truly, there was no going back, not that either of them had any intention to, but surely he hope that she knew what she was doing, because he really had no fucking clue as to what was going on or what to do in a situation, such as this.

"He's very young. Don't worry, I won't bring him over to disturb you - us. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes." She sounded hesitant, well who wouldn't? He nodded to himself, throwing his red silk tie over his neck. "Erik?" She breathed, her voice so tantalizing, he could only imagine what her lips looked like as his name was purred by the very woman that made his fingers twitch.

"I'm still h-here - I'll a-always be here, Christine." Placing the phone down on the bathroom counter and putting it on speaker, he threw on a nice white dress shirt and began to tie his tie. "The dragon goes into the castle..." He mumbled so quietly that not even his dear Christine could be able to hear him. Her voice soon again filled his penthouse, earning a smiling from the unmasked man as he finished tying his tie, grabbing some black slacks off of the bathroom counter.

"I can't wait to meet you." Her voice was delicate, not like anything he had ever heard before. Definitely something he could get used to hearing.

"Then I supposed y-you should get o-over here as soon as p-possible." Earning a tender giggle on the other line, the phone clicked off just as Erik finished tightening his belt to this liking. Putting the phone back in his pocket, he ventured to his closet, picking out a simple gray vest, he always needed to look his best. He sighed heavily, he hated the next part the worst. He approached his mirror and bench (Nadir pointed out that it was a vanity, but Erik gave a harsh glare and rebuttal which he could still hear in his ears every time he took his seat, 'It emasculates me when you call it a vanity, Persian.') taking a seat, eyeing down his black wig and white mask. Wasting no time, he got to work on touching up his appearance. When every last detail was just as he wanted, he breathed in a sharp breath as he pulled the white mask over his face, the fish wire soon disappearing into the blackness of the wig. Exhaling a long drawn out breath, his dread and sorrow was replaced by a buzz at the door. Standing to his feet, he closed his closet doors, turned off the light, and headed to the front door. "Yes?" He echoed into the speaker.

"It's Warren, Mr. Deslow. I have a woman here to see you. She says she's helping you out with your new opera? Her name is... What did you say again, Miss?" Warren walked away from the speaker, clicking it off, annoying Erik beyond compare. Erik stood there, impatiently as he awaited Warren to return. "Right, she said her name was Christine. Christine Daaé. Should I send her up then, Mr. Deslow?" Erik grumbled another cursed word in Italian, affirming Christine's entrance into the penthouse. Soon, his annoyance was taken over by anxiety and trepidation. His hands began to shake as he paced the wooden floor again, sure to create a noticeable dent before she arrived. His thoughts race with welcoming words, not knowing how he should greet her. Surely, he would have liked to meet her eventually, but he never thought that _she _would want to meet _him. _His vibrant thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door, only by a woman's tender hand. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and made his journey to the door.

Opening the door, he was met by a shorter woman, her straightened brown hair flowing over her face in all the right places. Her eyes were a shimmering sea-foam green, their borders a forest green like he'd never had seen before. Christine's eyelashes were thick, brown and not tainted by an a surplus amount of mascara, her makeup light and natural. His breath was simply taken from him as he stared down the woman he never thought he would ever meet. Nothing was more enticing than her lips, no, no composition he'd written or heard was as tempting as her lush, perfectly pink lips. He couldn't feel his body, his fingers were numb to their tips. Her eyes stared him down, neither of them seeming to want to say anything. Moments of silence passed by before Erik felt like her standing in the narrow corridor was enough.

"Please, come in Miss Daaé." Ushering her through the door, she could feel the beat of her heart speed up immensely. She had imagined her mystery caller in many different scenarios, but none like he had actually turned out to be. His shoulders were broad, his chest muscular, but not like one of those body builders. Her mind wandered to what was underneath all those clothes. Sharply dressed only egged her on more as he stood beside her, leading her into the nicest place she had ever been in all her life. His hands were large, his knuckles worn, but artistically. She could tell that he wasn't one of those musicians that stayed inside and that sparked her curiosity. She hadn't even registered that her eyes lazily moseyed over to the porcelain white mask. Somehow, it made her quiver in her bones, her legs, her hands. The part of his face that was uncovered was carved by angels, his jaw chiseled and his olive skin complementing his dark stubble. His hand guided her to the black leather couch as she took her seat in the most comfortable couch. Sighing slightly, she moved some stray hairs out of her face.

"You didn't stutter this time." She spoke with confidence as he walked over to the tiny bar that laid in alcove in the corner nearest the door.

"I am much better spoken in person, but I am still very nervous. As I've told you, I don't have many women - people over for that matter. Martini?" She nodded as she watched his hands meticulously make their drinks, perfectly adding the extra olives. She smiled at his strong memory as he handed her her drink. Erik didn't have the bravery to tell her that this was just a front he put on to impress her. When they had been talking over the phone, that was the _real _Erik. A scared, inexperienced, stuttering fool. Though, music did help calm him down, he still wished that he had the courage to tell her the truth. He was not well spoken in person, he was just very good at lying. He hated himself for it, but he knew that it had to be done. "I want to thank you for coming on such short notice, Miss Daaé. This score was due a few days ago and it was not until I listened to your voice mail that I became inspired to compose. What better singer to accompany me than the very woman who inspired the piece?" Lifting his glass of scotch in the air, I echoed his motions, glancing around the vast room.

"Do you live here alone?" He nodded, placing the glass on his leg, tapping his thumb on the rim of the glass nervously. "It's awfully big for one person."

"The business I am in pays me well and I enjoy being able to hold a piano and a studio in this space. Listen, before we go any further..." He began, her heart rate speeding up once again. His voice was alluring, enthralling her with every word as he spoke. He had never been like this over the phone. She very much like this side of him. "This is strictly professional, today... I do wish to take you out some other time, but for today's sake Miss Daaé, we are pressed for time and I need to get this composition in as soon as I can." She nodded in complete understanding. He was dedicated to his work and that is something she adored in any kind of person.

"I understand, I need to get back to my son as soon as I can, anyway. I sprung him onto my roommate at the last minute. I was just so excited to finally meet you." With a gentle smile, he stood to his feet and gestured for her to follow him into the music room he had. With a final nod, he spoke with a grace that filled her stomach with knots and flip turns, a sensation she hadn't felt in so long.

"Come me a voi."

Once entered into the room where the piano laid, she noticed how organized he was. Files and files of different compositions lined the walls, all organized down to their tempos, artists, and languages impressed her beyond comprehension. Gasping at the sheer ingeniousness of this man, she stood at the piano, awaiting his command.

"Do you speak all the languages you have all these compositions organized into, Erik? I mean, how would you find anything if you couldn't translate it?" He let out an airy laugh, searching through some files, distracted.

"I do speak most of these languages, but I do not wish for you to pop quiz me. I am fluent in Italian, French, and Spanish. Italian and Spanish are very close to each other. I understand Greek and can speak enough of it to get around. I speak a bit of German, Polish, and Russian. I taught myself English when I was six. I have been fluent ever since. I tend to stick around Italian and French, though. Since I was born in Paris, my French last name was DeDeaux, Éric DeDeaux-"

"Éric DeDeaux? Is that your real name?" He simply nodded, finally finding the piece he wanted her to warm up with, placing it down on the podium. "Don't you need to see it?" With a cheeky grin, he tapped on the sheet music and took his seat on the bench.

"Miss Daaé, I assure you, I am hired because I do a thorough job and I have been known for my past works. Anything in those files, I know by heart. I do not need the sheet music for simple arias. You will just be warming up your voice for now. When was the last time you sang?" A deep pink appeared on her cheeks as she smiled bashfully, shying away from the masked man beside her.

"I sing in the shower everyday, Erik." Smiling to himself, he gave a final nod and laid his hands on the keys.

"Do you speak French?" With a blank expression, he sighed, knowing he would have to sing it first.

"I speak English, Erik. If I spoke French, I wouldn't have the job I do." He playfully tapped on the white keys beneath him, warming up himself. If she spoke French, truly he would have gone through with that first phone call, unable to contain his desires for the flesh. Clearing his throat, he glanced up at the brunette standing beside him. This was hardly a reality, he was sure to wake from this dream anytime soon. "Anytime you're ready, Erik."

"I must sing it first, in order for you to know how to pronounce the words. The question is, 'Are you ready, Miss Daaé?'" With a wink, he took a deep breath and exhaled with a nervous sigh. Oh, how he hated singing in front of people.

_Pense à moi. Pense à nous deux__  
__Après nos au revoir__  
__Ne moublie pas__  
__Où que tu alles__  
__Promets le moi ce soir__  
__Quand linstant te semblera venu__  
__De regagner ta liberté__  
__Glisse-moi de temps a autre__  
__Là, dans tes pensées__  
__Oh non, jamais nous navons pas lamour__  
__Irréprochable et infini__  
__Mais un jour si tu téloignes_

Christine stood there, her mouth agape. The French words fell effortlessly off of his tongue as he finished the verse, not out of breath, not out of sight, and definitely out of mind. She had no idea about what he was saying, but it tortured her that he was alone. For the first time, she hated her job. She hated that he felt so alone that he felt the need to call such a repulsive place such as that. He was meant for such greater things than _that. _He was meant to be admired, to be noticed, to be _loved_. She didn't know what stirred inside her as he sang the last note out in perfect ease, his lips coming together in sync with the concluding note. How could she ever sing now, after the miraculous event that she witnessed? She stood with her arms draped over the piano, her eyes closed, enraptured in the music that flowed so easily from the keys that laid beneath him to the tip of his tongue. With a strained inhalation, she opened her eyes only to be met with the golden eyes that greeted at the door, what seemed like hours ago. His eyelashes moved up and down, blinking slowly as her mouth went completely dry. He could tell that she was meaning to talk, but she simply had no words to do so. With a smile, he helped her stand. Fixing her posture, his hands flew to her lower back. With one strong hand on her lower back and another on her abdomen, he pressed gently until he felt her stomach compress. Moving his hand that was in front of her, he moved it painstakingly slowly up to her collar bone, fanning out his slender fingers to grasp her shoulders. Stretching out her chest, her breasts moved forward, creating the airway that would give her the perfect diaphragm and singing position. She had wondered in the back of her mind if he had done that purposely, but his mind moved too quickly, only remembering what he had said earlier.

_This is strictly professional. _

Allowing the air to finally drain out her lungs, her chest rose and fell heavily as he circled around her like a vulture, his eyes gazing intensely into her soul. Finally happy with her stance, he took a seat once again on the bench. His hand moved swiftly to her chin, his hand warm, warmer than a normal human's hand. Pushing her chin ever-so-tenderly upwards, it was as if he was moving her chin with a feather, she barely felt his hand there, yet the heat that illuminated from his slender digits caused her culminate quite a bit of saliva in her mouth. Swallowing hard once he took his hand away, he cleared his throat and scrunched up his nose. Shaking his head, he smiled softly and glanced over at the angel standing beside him through his peripherals. Truly, he had done something _wrong_ to deserve someone so _right_. Nodding, he pressed forward into the aria, surprised to say the least.

* * *

3:29am

Christine rubbed her eyes as she rested against Erik's leather couch. The session had gone on much longer than both of them had planned, but neither of them were complaining. Christine called her roommate, apologizing for her lateness. As she called to say goodnight to her son in the narrow corridor, her voice was unusually slow, but Erik thought nothing of it. Returning inside, they spent another two hours in the studio. As they finished, they began to talk about Christine's past. She didn't say much about her childhood, but Erik listened closely, not wanting to forget any details.

Carrying her feather light body down to the car that he had waiting for her, he placed her into the back seat and scooted in close to her body. Her apartment was small, too small for her and her son. Evident that a child lived there, he scanned the room quickly, hoping that he wouldn't be disturbing her roommate. He couldn't determine how old Parker was by his surroundings, but he couldn't imagine he was older than six or seven by the drawings on her refrigerator. Walking around, he finally found her tiny bedroom. A small twin sized bed was shoved into the corner, the sheets messily draped over the side of the bed. Beside it, a sleeping boy rested. He only assumed that this was Christine's room by the sleeping boy. He nestled her into the bed, covering her with the blankets. He was uneasy about the cramped space, but he thought it would be inappropriate to bring it up, so early into their friendship. Placing a red rose with a black ribbon on the dresser, a letter by its side, he closed the door only to run chest to chest into an even shorter blonde girl! She squealed, covering her mouth. Erik brought his finger to his mouth, causing her to put down the duster in surrender. He guided the short blonde girl to the minuscule kitchen and raised his hands in hesitation.

"I am E-Erik. I am just bringing Christine h-home. I am the composer." The blonde girl narrowed her eyes, folding her arms over her chest.

"Hmmm... How do I not know you are not an intruder?" She waved the duster in his face, only to earn a confused expression.

"Her name is Christine Daaé. She is twenty four, twenty five in three weeks. She wishes to sing on Broadway. Her son is named Parker, though she never disclosed his age. You are the roommate that moved out to New York with her after she graduated college in California. She is a part-time waitress. Shall I mention her other job?" With an insisting nod, the blonde girl placed the duster on the table, smiling widely at the man across from her.

"Oh, Erik! You are most correct! Thank you for bringing her back, you are the best! I am Constance Megara Giry. Christine just calls me Meg, for short. I am named after the famous Constance Gosselin. I don't suppose you know who she is, though." She shrugged, sitting down at the table.

"She was a very famous ballet dancer in Paris, debuting in 1810. I know who she is, Meg. I was born in Paris. We French are proud of those who have made us proud in the arts. I would love to take the seat in front of you and get to know you _Mademoiselle Giry, _but I must go. Suppose we get to know each other another time, Miss. When Christine awakes, do not tell her that I brought her back home. I want it to be a surprise. Goodnight, Meg."

He escaped back into the car, his heart still fluttering, the image of Christine arriving at his doorstep. He knew for a fact that he would be going to sleep with a smile on his face and he hoped that Christine would only wake up with the brightest of smiles.

* * *

**A/N: Just a few things... **

**- I still type this on my phone & transfer it on my phone, unless by the rare chance I get to a laptop. I would like to vehemently apologize for the typos I recognize after I post it. ):  
- In the second chapter, it is supposed to say:  
"Fuck it," He thought, grumbling something in Italian, probably just more foreign curse words as he..."  
"It would help if you knew the plot of the opera, wouldn't it?" He shrugged, finishing off the cup of coffee. **

**- That's all I can find for now. Again, I'm sorry for the typos. Sometimes auto correct gets the best of me and slips past me. Nasty little devil, that bitch auto correct is... Anyway!**

**- Sorry, I had to reupload, I forgot something! For the French aria, I used Google translate and some other sites... I am not fluent in French... I would have another job if I was, but please do not get mad at me if it is wrong ): It is the aria that La Carlotta sings, but in French. I hope. Okay bye. **

**- Read and Review ! I love the feedback ! Thank you to those who have reviewed ! **

**Much love and good thoughts sent your way. **

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	4. Chapter 4

**Press Pound**

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She awoke the next morning around seven thirty, her son poking at her face. Opening one eye, she realized that she overslept. Unbelievably tired, she sat up and stretched her arms up over head and looked around the room. Her son stood there momentarily, waiting for his mother to wake up, knowing that she was not a morning person. Yawning loudly, she placed a kiss on her son's cheek and rose to her feet. He ran out of their shared room with a happy shout and she soon followed, only to walk backwards into the room when she noticed a red rose sitting on her dresser. Picking up the letter that rested beside it, she opened it hoping it wasn't a letter asking for money or something.

_Miss Daaé, _

_Thank you for contributing your beautiful voice for my score last evening. I am sorry our session ran so late. Enclosed is a payment for your troubles. I hope it is enough. If you are displeased with my offerings, I will have my assistant send you more. As for meeting again, I would be more than happy to take you out on a formal date soon, just let me know when you are available. You have my phone number. Thank you again and I hope to see you again soon. _

_With Best Regards, _

_Erik Deslow _

She found herself smiling, the soft petals brushing against her nose. Searching through the envelope, her fingertips brushed up on another paper. She took the paper out and her eyes widened, her body freezing on scene. She ran over to her purse, pouring out its contents onto her bed. Grabbing her phone, she quickly dialed Erik's phone number.

"Hel-"

"One thousand dollars?! Are you insane?!" She shouted into the phone, confused more than anything.

"I thought it wasn't e-enough." There he went stuttering again.

"I sang for five stupid hours and you gave me one thousand dollars! Is this a joke, Erik?" Her son had run into the run, perplexed by his mother's anger. Waving his hands, he tried to get her attention. "Not now, Parker. Mommy is on the phone."

"It's j-just a check. It's o-okay. It's n-nothing, Christine. _Please_ take it, I i-insist." She sighed heavily, she smelled something foul in the air. Looking at her distressed son, finally she understood why her son was so panicked.

"I have to go! There's a fire in my apartment!" Hanging up, she ran into the hallway and saw the smoke. It was black as it began to pillage the walls. Consuming the furniture, Christine grabbed her phone and closed the bedroom door. Running to the window, she gestured for her son to take the fire escape. "You have to!" But he just stood there and shook his head. She could feel the heat of the fire, billowing underneath the doorway. "PARKER, NOW!" Finally, she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the window, practically throwing him out onto the balcony. The sounds of fire truck siren's already racing down the street as she and her son tried to make it down the fire escape. "It's stuck,_ oh God!_ It's stuck, the ladder is stuck!" She cried out as she tried with all her strength to jiggle the ladder free. She looked to her right. The jump from her fire escape to the one next door wasn't to bad. She turned to her son, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. Grabbing him, she pulled him to her chest. "You have to jump over there. It's your only chance, okay? I love you so much. I love you..." He shook his head, beginning to cry. "Yes, you have to! You'll survive, I promise you. You'll survive. I have to go back inside. It's the only way out, okay? I love you." Parker kept shaking his head as if he couldn't understand a word she was saying. Helping him up, she lifted him up onto the railing. Pointing to the fire escape next door, she made a jumping motion with her hands and that's what he did. He reached for his mom with urgency in his arms and tears in his eyes, but she shook her head. "I love you, Parker. I love you!" Tears fell rapidly down her cheeks as she headed back into the smoky room, the ash and debris immediately filling her lungs. She was tripping over everything, left and right. She had to get to the front door. "HELP!" She screamed out, hoping someone would hear her.

"MISS DAAÉ! WE'RE COMING FOR YOU! WHERE IS YOUR SON?" A man yelled back to her.

"HE WENT DOWN THE FIRE ESCAPE! PLEASE, HELP ME!" She could no longer walk, her legs giving out beneath her. Falling, she laid on the debris filled floor. Her consciousness failing her. "H-Help..." She groaned, finally the blackness took her, the only hope that could save her was the chance that her deaf son understood her.

He was pacing again, only this time he knew that the floor beneath him was not going to give out on him. The waiting room of Ford Janson General was cold, but not crowded, which he thanked Allah for, a bad habit Nadir taught him. Soon, the quickened, but light footsteps of the cursed joined him in nervousness. They didn't say much to each other, knowing that the same things were on their minds. A tall blonde doctor rapidly approached the two men, in her scrubs with a clipboard and stethoscope in hand.

"I presume one of you is Mr. Deslow?" Erik stepped up, shaking her hand politely. She smiled tenderly, greeting Nadir with an equally as polite handshake. "I am Doctor Patricia Benson, but please call me Patty. We contacted you, because she was last seen at your penthouse, Mr. Deslow. She had not gone to work and her roommate had not seen her all morning." Erik nodded as the three walked down the corridor, listening intently. "She has a bit of smoke inhalation, but nothing toxic. We have run multiple toc screens and blood tests. She seems to be fine in that area. She has some burns on her thighs and back, from where she tripped and fell. We performed some skin grafts and she will be sore when she awakens, since the grafts were on her back. I suggest you ice them three times a day, but of course if she is pain, more so. There is burn ointment I have written a prescription for, it is called Silvadene, or Silver Sulfadiazine. It will be ready by tomorrow. That should be applied once as she awakens in the morning and once before she falls asleep. For pain, I recommend Ibuprofen. Nothing too strong, for her burns are not that severe. Anything else I am missing?" The doctor examined her clipboard, humming to herself in the process. Erik coughed, nudging Nadir. Nadir, being the humble man that he is, took a deep breath and cleared his throat.

"What of the child?" The Persian asked.

"Oh yes, the child is in the care of the roommate. Constance Giry, I believe her name is. That is who Miss Daaé has listed as her emergency contact for Parker at his special needs school."

"Special n-needs?" Erik glanced at the doctor, his eye brows furrowing inward.

"Yes, Parker is fully deaf." The doctor nodded, smiling softly at the two gentlemen.

"May we see her or is she does she need to be at rest?" The doctor led us to her room, letting us in quietly. Nadir and I sat at either side of her, the steady beeping of the monitors creating a nice beat. "She is beautiful, Erik." Nadir commented, leaning back in his chair.

"I suppose I should learn sign language now, Nadir." Erik took out his phone, searching up videos on beginner's American Sign Language. Hours went by and still, he did not understand. He groaned in frustration, turning his phone off, putting his head in his hands.

"You are left handed, then?" A hoarse voice spoke. Their heads turned to Christine who had awoken, her attention to Erik. He nodded nervously, her smile tender. "It is different to learn sign when you are left handed... You should look up sign language for left handed people..." Nadir smiled widely, only provoking Erik more.

"How are you feeling, my love?" Nadir spoke with grace, handing her a cup of water.

"Sore, other than that I am fine. Is my son okay?" Her voice turned worried at the flip of a switch. "He didn't get hurt, did he? He's only five. Gosh, I just feel horrible about it all... There was no time to sign and I just... I don't know what I would do without him..."

"You don't have to worry about that. A woman named Constance has him safely and soundly, I might add." Christine took a sigh of relief, leaning back on her pillow.

"M-Meg. Her name is M-Meg." Christine smiled, glancing over at the boy who was sharply dressed, yet again. "What h-happened to his d-dad?" Christine paused, shrugging her shoulders.

"He comes and goes. You know the whole... One night thing... I mean, he's never hurt me, but once I told him I was pregnant, he left me. My pregnancy was complicated. Parker was eleven weeks early and that caused him to lose his hearing. I was alone through all of it, except for Meg. Now, I have a burned down apartment and a growing medical bill. I wouldn't trade Parker for anything, though. Evict me or give me the plague. I love that boy to death..." She wiped a few stray tears from her eyes, sniffling at the harsh memories that berated her. Erik moved her chair up to her and grabbed her hand.

"Let me g-get you a n-new apartment. Whatever y-you need t-to get you b-back onto your f-feet. Let me do this for P-Parker, please." He smiled gently, placing a feathery kiss to her knuckles. With a slight nod, Erik grinned widely. "I p-promise that everything will be taken c-care of, Christine." Looking towards Nadir, Erik gave a wink. "You know what to do, Nadir. Give her the _world_."

Christine's night had been painful and restless. Without a wink of sleep, she had been tossing and turning, worrying endlessly about her son. She knew very well that Meg would take care of him, but since the day she looked down at that pink plus sign, nothing was stronger than the bond she shared with her child. Eventually, Meg stopped by later that evening with Parker. No morphine drip eased her pain more than seeing his beaming eyes and gleaming smile. He was tired, exhausted more so. His mind reeled, not comprehending why his mother was in the hospital, no matter how many times Meg tried explaining to it to him. He could not quite understand why she went back inside into the fire, he could not understand the meaning of sacrifice. Sometimes not even the most beautiful hands can express the deepest love someone can have for another.

"He misses you, dearly." The blonde girl whispered, stroking the young boy's tresses as he slept soundly in her lap. "He was telling me that you told him to jump down the fire escape." Christine nodded, exhaling softly.

"He _needed_ to get down to the ground before the glass of the window combusted. I didn't have the time to sign to him the instructions, I simply just set him on the railings and made a lazy hand motion of jumping." She sighed heavily, shutting her eyes tightly, trying not to recall the harsh memories. "Our ladder was stuck, there was no other way. My plan was to run back inside and hope to make it to the front door."

"How did that work out for you?" Meg scoffed, pausing momentarily in her thoughts. "Your baby daddy called about four hours after you were admitted to the hospital." Christine's eyes lit up, but not in the way that one's eyes should light up at the mention of someone's name. A deep fire of hate consumed her as Meg continued. "He asked if you were alright and if Parker was okay. I told him that you had a few burns, but you were a fighter. I also told him that Parker was just fine and that him caring was a feat in itself." She smiled widely, shifting her body slightly, hoping that the young boy did not stir.

"Is that all?" Christine questioned, hoping that she didn't have to listen to her friend blab on about the dumb ass who knocked her up five some years ago.

"I might have told him something else, Chris." Meg's lips formed a tight line as she flinched away from her friend, just praying that tonight would not be the night of her death.

"I don't like the sound of that..." Her eyes narrowed, crossing herself in a dramatic gesture as she braced herself for Meg's confession. "Continue, by all means." Meg cleared her throat, putting her hair up in a loose ponytail in one final act of probable fatality.

"I may have told him that you have a boyfriend... Fiancé, now. You know, that cute composer guy, with the mask! I told your baby daddy that you met at a casting call and you two hit it off real good. Your baby daddy was curious and didn't seem to believe me, until I told him that you are buying an apartment together in the city, close to Parker's school!" Meg slapped her hand over her mouth, her blue eyes wide with shock and excitement. "I'm sorry, Christine, but your baby daddy is finally paying attention to the welfare of your son and actually caring about his family! Isn't that what matters?" Christine's eyes widened, shocked down to every charred bone she carried.

"CONSTANCE MEGARA GIRY! YOU ARE SO LUCKY MY SON IS DEAF!" Christine ignored the terrorizing pain that shot through her body as she sat up to face the elated girl beside her. "Firstly, my baby daddy has a name and his name is Cameron. Secondly and MOST importantly, how the _hell_ could you tell him that I have a boyfriend?! Meg, have you realized what you've gotten me into, now? I barely know Erik and now you expect me to just march up to him and tell him that we are engaged to be married! What the _actual_ fuck were you thinking?" She leaned back rather violently on her hospital bed, covering her flushed face with her delicate hands, shaking her head. "I've raised Parker on my own for five years and we've been doing just fine, okay? I don't need that bastard! Cameron left us, not the other way around! We were stupid when we had unprotected, drunk, sex..." She trailed off, tears straining her eyes. Peering down at her sleeping son, she wiped the hot pearls off her cheeks. "...But I can't imagine my life without him. He's my everything. I would die before I would let anyone lay a hand on him..." She let out a long drawn out breath, rubbing the stress out of her eyes. "How do I even begin to tell Erik about our predicament? He's such an enigma... There's a story behind the golden eyes, the mask... He stutters uncontrollably, but when when he engulfs himself in his music, he becomes a completely different person. He becomes... Just... Angelic. His voice, the way his fingers move over and around the keys of a piano... I just... I don't know how to go about this, Meg! What have you done to me?" The tears once again began to fall as she rested her cheek against the cool of the pillow. Meg picked up the young boy, clinging her close to her chest.

"I'll figure out a way, after all it is my fault. Just know that I did it completely and totally out of love, Chris. I love you like my own. You're the closest thing I have to a sister. You were there when I lost my mother. Parker means everything to me and I promise I'll take care of everything, okay?" Pressing a tender kiss to her temple, Meg lowered the young boy down to Christine.

"I know, Meg. I owe you my life. Take care of him for me." With a simple kiss to his cheek, Meg parted with a sweet smile, the sleeping boy nestled closely to her chest.

Christine thought long and hard about the decisions she had to make. Through the rest of the night and into the morning, nothing perplexed her more than the situation she pushed into by her dearest friend. Truly, she saw the positivity that Meg saw, but she didn't see just how Erik would respond. That is was scared her the most. She wasn't ready to give her heart like that to someone. When Cameron had left her like he did, she vowed to herself that she would just seek out the physicality of relationships. She swore that emotions weren't worth it and that emotions would she hurt her son more. She knew little about Erik and yet, she felt obligated to marry him. She felt horribly about the thought of marrying him, truly for the use of his body. He had a magnificent body. The first few phone calls had something strange stirring in her stomach. Emotions, butterflies. She convinced herself that it was just the first date jitters. Maybe it was his music that hypnotized her into feeling an emotion she had out away for the last five years. Nothing was making this an easier, certainly not these burns or the fact that she didn't have an apartment to go home to. Maybe it was the fact that she was now engaged. She didn't know and frankly, she didn't want to know.

"Good morning, Miss Daaé. How are you feeling this new day?" A taller man entered, his dirty blond waves and hazel eyes brightened the room as he checked the monitors.

"Discomforted, annoyed, and hungry to say the least... Where is Doctor Benson?" She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but she hadn't had any sleep. Sighing, she laid back and groaned in pain. "I'm sorry, I'm just really uncomfortable."

"I would imagine. It's fine, don't apologize. My name is Doctor Raoul Charter. Your normal doctor, Patty, had to tend to an emergency patient this morning. The victim had third degree burns and skin grafts were needed. Patty was needed immediately." With a groan, she sat up to meet his enticing gaze.

"Raoul? What a name! Are you part of the royal blood line or something?" Christine giggled like a teenage girl. She was embarrassed, but the pain of her burns soon overtook again.

"No, no royalty in my blood line. Believe me, I checked. It was my mother's idea. I used to introduce myself as Ryan, because I hated my name so much. As I grew older, I just learned to accept it and honestly, it's not that bad." The doctor smiled sweetly, his smile enchanting and charming. "How are your thighs and back feeling, Miss Daaé?"

"Awful, they hurt more than child birth." The doctor raised his eyebrow, knowing that she was making an exaggeration. "Okay, I lied, but they do hurt a lot." She couldn't stop looking at his eyes as he meticulously checked her vitals, his fingers warm to the touch.

"You have children, then?" He spoke quietly, clearly distracted by the task at hand.

"I have a son named Parker. He's five, fully deaf. Do you have children?" He shook his head, taking out his stethoscope.

"This might be a tad cold, Miss." Moving her hospital gown to the side, he pressed the instrument to her chest. "Deep breath in, please." Obliging, Christine took a deep breath in, trying oh-so-hard not to stare. "And again..." His voice was intoxicating, his jaw chiseled and masculine. "Again..." She was taking deep breaths now, simply for her sake. "Once more..." She licked her lips as his hand rested gently on her shoulder as she sat up, his stethoscope on her back. "May I check your skin grafts?"

"That's your job, isn't it?" With an airy chuckle, he moved the gown slightly to the side and mumbled something to himself. Christine groaned in agony as his fingertips grazed the reddening flesh, the gauze still in place. Flinching at his touch, her body moved forward in a thrash.

"Don't worry, I've got you, always. I won't let you fall off the bed. That certainly isn't my job." His breath trickled down her spine as she repeated a silent prayer to herself, praying for her sanity to remain palpable. Moving the gown back, he slowly laid Christine back down onto the bed. "Now, you have two options here. I can check the grafts on your thighs or I can have a nurse check them. They are on your inner thighs. I do not want you to feel as though you are being invaded of your body's privacy. Our nurses are qualified and I'm sure Genevieve will be happy to check them."

"You can check them, I don't mind. I trust that you'll do your job professionally and besides, you're here and it's convenient." Christine shrugged, moving a piece of her hair behind her ear. The doctor nodded, putting on some gloves and moving to her head. "I don't think the grafts are up there, Doc."

"I am moving the bed to a flat position, it will make the examination easier." With a sincere smile, the bed flattened out and he proceeded to move the blankets out of the way. "Are you ready?"

"Just don't hurt me. My thighs are really sore." He nodded, lifted the gown slightly, a concentrated expression taking over his face. He took a pair of tweezers and began to remove the gauze that was attached to the stitching. Christine winced in pain as he diligently pulled off the gauze off of her first thigh.

"One leg down, one to go." He smiled a warm smile, switching to the other side of the bed. "Hmmm, it seems as though your sutures are attached to your gauze. This will be more painful. Let me retrieve some hydrogen peroxide and Genevieve." He left the room, only to return with a very short nurse. Her hair was her black as she made her way to my side.

"What is she doing here? Is she going to put me under anesthesia? Am I going to die?" Christine spit fired the questions as the nurse smiled calmly, reaching out her hand.

"No, Genevieve is here for you to hold your hand. This is going to be quite painful and I thought you might want someone to cling onto while I remove the gauze." Placing my hand into hers, i hesitantly closed my eyes and braced myself for the worst possible pain I could imagine.

He stood, onlooking the view of the cityscape of New York City. His building that his family brought up from the ground over sixty years ago, was now his to run. Not only did he compose, he was an esteemed business man. He was in charge of international trades and any exchanges the branches of markets that his company held, made with other markets. He did not ask for the responsibility of the building, the empire his grandfather built, but his grandfather put him in the will, unknowingly to Erik. He had no intentions of carrying after his grandfather, knowing that his father had wanted no part in his life. Deslow International had exceeded expectations, nonetheless once it had been taken underneath Erik's wing. His mother, had wanted no part in this company unless it had to do with the money. Always, the money his mother thirsted after. Erik knew very well that she hunted out her son for his success in finances, never actually taking interest in his life. With his booming company making history beneath him, he couldn't help but feel an all harboring and consuming loneliness whenever he stood, onlooking the New York cityscape. He had hoped that one day it would change, that one day someone would look past the money and the company, but furthermore his mask that he hid behind. His mask was his cover for his marred face, yet it shielded so much more than that. Was he willing to reveal his hate-filled past to the woman he was falling madly in love with, just because of some phone call to a sex hotline? He had so much pent-up anger towards his family, his past, yet nothing was in comparison to the fear and loathing that he held towards himself and all the mistakes he had made. He lived on the lies he fed people, for they never seemed to care to stay long enough to hear the truth. He knew that his song bird, his brown haired temptress knew that his mother was a greedy whore and that he was raised elsewhere, but the question still floated between them.

Did she believe him?

* * *

**A/N: Tension arises. I like this chapter the best so far. You get to see into their lives a bit, learning a bit about how they came to be... More to come! Review and read! I miss hearing from you guys. ): **

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	5. Chapter 5

**Unavailable **

* * *

It was difficult for the blonde girl to try and find the mysterious masked man, but not an _impossible_ mission. She knew she was responsible for the quandary she put Christine and Erik in, but what she also knew was that it was for the best. Her baby daddy was a horrible person, inside and out, head to toe. Contrary to what her friend Christine says, her baby daddy was a ruthless son of a bitch who deserved what was going to come to him, once she could pinpoint the masked man's location. Her baby daddy had no interest in Christine's pregnancy. Once she saw that little pink plus sign, he had fled quicker than a stripper at confession. Not one phone call or letter, he had completely abandoned her in her horrible pregnancy. Constant bleeding and cramps, she was bedridden for most of it. Well, she had been _ordered_ to be on strict bed rest, but she refused. She kept working, pushing herself to the brink of black-outs and exhaustion. She needed the income, the support once her child had come. One night, her temperature had reached 104 and she was bleeding profusely, more than I had ever seen. We rushed her to the hospital and it turned out that that was her body's way of telling us that she had gone into a premature labor, almost twelve weeks early. It was a sixteen hour labor and eventually, Parker had been c-sectioned out of her. He was kept in the neonatal intensive-care unit for the next three months until he could breathe on his own. It wasn't until he was about six months old that Christine had noticed he wasn't responding to her beckoning and calling. She took him in and found out that since he was shy of three months early, something went wrong in her womb and his hearing loss was a consequence of the complications of his premature birth. Christine was shattered. Here she had a newborn baby boy with many existing health problems, barely enough money to pay for rent, and now she had been given the dismal news that her son was completely deaf. She was _more than _inclined to investigate. Later, she found out that Cameron was a closeted alcoholic. The perils that alcohol have on a fetus can be fatal. He learned to hide his alcoholism from her, not knowing that he was going to get her pregnant. One wild night, Christine gave in and let loose. From the moment she looked down at that pink plus sign, she knew nothing was more important than her unborn child. Since then, she has never been the same.

* * *

"You have a Constance Giry and Parker Daaé waiting for you. She says you know her, Mr. Deslow?" Baker's voice spoke through the intercom as Erik sat up in his desk chair, alerted at the mention of the little boy's name. Standing behind his desk, he straightened out his black vest and purple silk tie.

"Send them in please, Baker." Erik's words flowed easily as he awaited his barely familiar acquaintance. Soon, the blonde bob of hair entered through the black tempered glass doors, compliments of Nadir Khan. She looked at the Deslow insignia in awe as she held the boy's hand. Distracted by the artistic calligraphy, the little boy reveled in the beauty of the office. "Mademoiselle Giry, please sit down." Gesturing to the seat in front of his desk, he walked over to the chair and pulled it out gently. Approaching the young boy, Erik knelt down and took a deep breath. Raising his hands in front of him, he cautiously began to introduce himself, not wanting to mess up in front of the boy. Parker's eyes lit up, the smile growing even bigger. Applauding the only way he knew how, Erik motioned for the boy to sit beside the blonde girl. his smile still gleaming.

"I didn't know you knew sign language..." Meg spoke in adoration as she signed simultaneously, her eyes wide with veneration. Erik shrugged his shoulders, smiling softly at the two people in front of him. Turning the boy, she handed him her phone and instructed him to play a game, for they had important matters to discuss. Erik tried to pay attention, but Meg was too advanced for Erik's liking. Meg kissed the young boy on the forehead and turned back to face the masked man. "Hello, again. You have an amazing view behind you."

"It is not very nice when it begins to rain. The rain spots are a horrible thing to wash off, Miss." With a giggle, Meg suddenly remembered her ordered of business. "What can I help you with, Miss Giry? You certainly went to great lengths to find me. I want to be of assistance to you and Christine. As much as possible, I want to make sure her recovery is as painless as it can be. She needs to be home with her son, for his needs are first and foremost." Meg guffawed at his eloquence, folding her tiny hands in her lap.

"She thanks you dearly for offering to buy her a new apartment. The burnt one was no place for a child, but I learned to shut my mouth." Smiling gently, she sighed and glanced at the boy, checking on him. Fully distracted, she began once more. "Mr. Deslow..."

"Erik, please."

"Erik... I have put you and Christine in a forced position and I am so sorry for it. I was only thinking of Christine and Parker at the time. I thought it would be best and truly, I know it will be in the end... But, I need you to understand now that I am so sorry for putting you in such a position." Her eyes were pleading as Erik leaned forward, his elbows propping his chin up on his desk.

"Whatever it is, I am sure I will be able to handle it." He spoke easily, looking towards the boy.

"I... Christine's baby daddy, Cameron, had called a few hours after she was admitted to the hospital. He asked about her and Parker. I just couldn't get that bastard out of my head. What he did to Christine... On so _many_ occasions... I just get so angry... I am so sorry, Erik... He was going to hang up, just like that! I stopped him from hanging up and I told him that she had moved on and had a boyfriend... Rather, a fiancé. I told him that they had met at a casting call and that they hit it off really well. I also told him that the man is a composer, very reserved. He didn't quite believe me, but I told him that they're going to buy an apartment together, close to Parker's school. He seemed curious and interested. Mr. Deslow, this is the first time in five years that he's cared in the _least_ bit for her and his own son's welfare. He ran out on her faster than you could say, 'Wait!' I am sorry, but he finally cares about his son, about Christine... In the end, that's all what matters to me." Erik sat back in his chair, humming silently to himself. He blinked a few times, bringing his sight back into focus, yet he had not said one word. "Mr. Deslow, I lost my mother at a very young age and they are all I have. I would take a bullet for Christine and Parker. I was only thinking of them when I told Cameron that she was engaged... Do you at least... Understand where I'm coming from, Mr. Deslow?" With a few moments of silence passing by, he finally released the air in his lungs, folding his arms over his chest. He kept thinking, 'Thank god her son is deaf.' He parted his lips to speak, but something within him pulled him back into silence. The blonde girl sat willingly, waiting for his response.

"_Miss Giry_..." The words emanated off his tongue like a tranquil stream, flowing down a bed of glossy rocks. "If I am in understanding with you..." He continued, his breathing rooted deeply in his chest. "You have just told me that I have _involuntarily_ and _unwillingly _become engaged to a woman I barely know... That I am going to be the future _father_ of a boy who I only know three things of... One being his name, two being his mother, and three being that he is deaf. _Miss Giry, _if I am in complete understanding with you, I am to _propose_ and _move_ _in_ with a woman and her son, that I met by calling a sex hotline three days ago?"

The mask was making it difficult for Meg to read his expression and his tone was hard to read. He seemed truly mystified, floored, and utterly nonplussed at the situation he had just been given. There were _not_ enough adjectives in his vocabulary of _all_ the languages he spoke to describe his feelings toward the present position he was put in, forcefully and unknowingly by the blonde girl. Truly, he knew she meant well, but he could not shake the idea of being engaged to a woman he barely knew. In turn, she barely knew him. He had been partly truthful with her, nonetheless, there were still so many things he had intended on _not_ telling her. He was a man who bore a mask, a mask which intentions were very clear; to _cover_ his past, to _protect_ life, and to _transform_ himself. How was he to be thrust into a complication such as this, when he had no idea on how to handle a woman, let alone himself? Surely, he was ill-prepared when it came to his own life, but to be put in the position of having to be responsible of two other people, he was not sure he could do it. His parents sure did not teach him to. Yet, in front of him was a woman who sought out in complete desperation and love, the best for her family, the last she had to cling onto as family. Her eyes pleaded in sorrow, she knew what she did was wrong, but Erik could not tear his heart away from the boy that sat beside her, completely oblivious to the predicament he was in, completely and totally against his will. With a sigh, Erik knew what he needed to do. Not for the sake of the blonde girl and the girl waiting in the hospital bed, but for the boy who reminded Erik of himself. Alone, entirely alone and in his own little world. Just like Erik had been forced into, Parker would have to make a few difficult decision, for the position he was involuntary pushed into caused him to grow up much faster than he had to... And that is what broke Erik's heart the most.

"I will do it. I will propose to Christine." He politely nodded, standing to meet Meg's watery gaze. "Does she know of the situation?" His tone was low, almost as if he was in pain.

"She does. Oh, thank you, Mr. Deslow! I cannot thank you enough, you have truly saved me! I cannot begin to thank you enough! Oh, dear! Oh... Thank you!" Meg had wrapped her tiny dancer's body uncomfortably around Erik, but he saw great compassion in her eyes. Hugging her back, he smiled gently and walked them to the door. "I truly owe you my life..." She mumbled, instructing the small boy that it was time to say to goodbye.

"I will have my assistant bring Christine's belongings to my château in Bedford. We will stay there until the new penthouse is ready. My penthouse is not equipped to house more than one person. Tell Christine I will be picking her up from the hospital tonight, once she is released. Also, make sure she is told that everything will be taken care of, Miss Giry. I do not want her to stress from the moving. I suggest you come live with us a while, to help with Parker. I do not know his needs as well as you do." Opening the door, Erik impressively signed his goodbyes to the young boy, making sure that he did everything correctly. Glancing back up to the blonde girl, he lifted her hand and placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles. "Until tonight, Miss Giry."

* * *

Christine's legs hurt worse than her back did. The removal of the suture was agonizing, but she was glad that her son had not been there to see that. As the hours ticked by, she thought more about Erik. She wondered if he would openly listen to Meg's stupid story. It truly unnerved Christine that if he did listen, she would be engaged to a man she barely knew. Sure, she felt the physical attraction to Erik and a bit of emotion to him, but she refused to feel anything past physical attraction after she had awakened in the hospital. If he proposed and they were to be wed, she knew that was going to be a torturous marriage. Her son would not understand that was the worst of it all, but maybe Meg was right. Maybe marrying Erik would help the healing process from the damage Cameron had left. Yes, she would never give in to her emotional needs, but she would most definitely like the closure. The closure could easily come from marrying a stranger, couldn't it? Yet again, she didn't know, but this time she was anxious to know.

"Parker!" She signed with excitement as the two blondes walked through the hospital room door. Her son smiled widely, giving her signs of equal excitement. He began to tell her of the day he had, explaining the amazing detail of Erik's office. His favorite part was the view of New York he had. Christine smiled, placing a kiss on his forehead. Knowingly, she turned towards Meg and raised her eyebrows, hoping for the worst. "Well?" She spoke, making sure Parker was distracted with Meg's phone.

"I talked to him about the situation and he seemed confused, more than anything. It took him a long time to process what I was telling him, but he finally snapped back into reality and he was very serious about it." Blinking languidly, Christine painfully sat up in anticipation. "He agreed to propose to you and move in with you. Christine, you are going to be married."

Christine didn't respond, she just sat in her bed, nodding along. She didn't know how to respond. She didn't know if she should be happy that he agreed and didn't kick her family out the door, or utterly terrified that she was about to be bound eternally to a man she barely knew. Parker was finally going to have a father, yes... But, was that a good enough to be happy for this, might as well be, arranged marriage? There was so much he didn't know about her. It crushed her to know that he was going into this marriage blind -without a clue as to what he had just said yes to, yet it rendered so acutely in a place that she never admitted that existed in herself, that he was willingly to stop his life and unconditionally and eternally care for a woman he barely knew and a boy who couldn't hear a thing. She didn't even know when she began to cry at the thought of his generosity, his mercy and utter consideration to the disaster Meg had created. Her tears were coursing down her cheeks at an unattainable speed, her chest rising and falling at such an elevated pace that Parker had noticed that something was wrong. Her eyes stung miserably, but she couldn't seem to stop the tears that rushed down her heated cheeks. With a tender hand, Parker rested his palm on her cheek, wiping her glistening tears away with a kiss.

"Tears are bad, they mean someone is hurting. Do not hurt. I love you, Mom." Parker put his hands back on her cheeks as Christine smiled at his confession of love. She didn't know what had come over her. Wiping her tears away, Christine took a deep breath and kissed her son on the temple.

"I love you." She simply stated, the room growing quiet.

Minutes passed by where none of them said a word, silence welcomed by the two women.

"Christine, he's going to pick you up tonight and take you to his château, until his new penthouse is ready." Christine laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"There's a sentence I'd never thought I would hear."

"He wants me to stay with you, until you're healthy enough to start walking. He wants me to take care of Parker, while you recover." Clearly, Meg had something else on her mind. Christine mind wandered. Surely, Meg wasn't going to confess that Christine had a child on the way as well!

"What's wrong, Meg?" Christine tilted her head, concerned in every way. Meg smiled, relieving Christine of her built up tension. With a soft brush of her cheek, Meg placed a quick kiss on Christine's cheek and began to exit the room, with a grin and nothing less.

"It's just that... Erik is learning Sign Language and when Parker saw Erik introduce him in Sign Language, I could tell that Parker was the reason that Erik agreed to marry you. If anything Christine... Erik loves that boy so much, already and I just hope you two can learn to love each other, even if it is just the way a friend loves another friend. Parker needs parents and Erik saw that. Erik put his needs first and to me, nothing is more important than that. Cameron never did that and now, you finally have someone who will always put your son before himself. Just remember that for me, okay Christine?" With a nod, Meg left the room, leaving Christine to think about a lot of things. Meg was right, Cameron never cared about his son. Never once did he call about him during her pregnancy. He never sent her money for all his failed surgeries. What was she supposed to do with the man who suddenly came into her life and cares so deeply for her son? He was doing everything he could to make a life for her son and no one had done that for Parker for that. For five years, Parker never had a father figure, no one to teach him how to fish or to throw a baseball. It was just Christine and Parker. Sure, Meg was there, but Parker lacked a father figure and now that he finally has one, things will be infinitely different, on both sides. The question still remains between the betrothed and Christine didn't know if it was ever going to be answered.

Will we ever fall in love?

* * *

The soft knock at the door awoke Christine, who wasn't quite sleeping. It was almost as if the knocking was part of a lucid dream, yet she barely had any morphine. She had hope that the fire, the proposal, and everything else was a bad dream. Just one big, bad dream.

"Come in, please." She mumbled, barely audible. The gentleman entered, both surprising Christine to her core. The male doctor strode in with Erik by his side as he finished his sentence about the care she would be needing at home. "Hello... Gentleman." She inquired as they both stared, smiling in sincerity.

"Can she bathe?" The dark haired man asked, fully attentive to the doctor. No, Christine was wrong. _This_ was the bad dream. Two completely handsome men in front of her, one of which she was engaged to be married to and the other, she felt an undeniable need to touch all over. Groaning to herself, she rubbed her eyes and sighed.

"Yes, she can. Lukewarm water in a bath should be fine, I think. A lot of dry skin will come off, do not be alarm, that is normal for a patient like her. She will need help getting in and out of the bath, but make sure she does not take too long of a bath. I do not want her sutures to become loose. If you are worried about them, you can call me here." The doctor handed Erik a piece of paper, a smile on his face that was unwavering.

"Thank you, Doctor Charter. I will be calling you if anything seems odd. You have been a great help to Christine. Give my best to Patty and Genevieve, please." The doctor nodded, turning towards Christine. Oh, those eyes. She had forgotten about the hazel eyes.

"If you are in any severe discomfort or you feel that the stitches are coming out, have your fiancé called me immediately, Christine. I trust that you can properly diagnose your pain." Erik had told them that they were going to be married. How fantastic. She nodded politely, smiling warmly towards the gorgeous doctor beside her.

"Thank you Raoul, you have been very kind to me and my horrendous attitude." With a chuckle, Raoul squeezed her hand and removed himself from the room with a smile and a wave.

Erik stood awkwardly at the edge of the bed, looking up at the ceiling. "I guess there is no better time to do this than n-now." He made his stiff and more than uncomfortable side step to the bed, fiddling with a box in his coat pocket. Taking a deep breath, he bent down on his knee and began his speech of love? Was it love or was it obligation?

"Erik, I can barely see you down there." Christine let out a delicate laugh, nervous more than anything. "Please sit beside me." Patting the space beside her, Erik took his seat. Clearing his throat, he licked his lips as his chest became uneasy, his eyes concerned. Taking her small hands in his, his golden eyes met with hers in an act of love, to her son. Yes, she finally figure it out - He loved his son and that was all that mattered in this conundrum, this mishap.

"C-Christine..." Closing his eyes, he started with a shaky intake. "I know that we have only know each other for what? 72 hours? It seems surreal that just a three days ago we were on the phone with the intention of... Well.. C-Christine, there is so much we do not know about each other... Yet... Here we are... In a puzzling situation, a battle we must march into, together. I could go into the psychology and the logical side to why I agreed to Meg's please, but the truth of it is... I see myself in that boy of yours and I just could not let him grow up in the same life I did. He is like me in so many ways and I just could not refuse when I saw how excited he was that I had learned Sign Language. Christine, I want so much for him, for you. Even if we are going into this with no feelings of love whatsoever, the mutual pull that is keeping us together is that son of yours. If you are willing, I am more than enthusiastic - unprepared, really - but eager to build a life for the three of us. I feel as though we can thrive, if we learn to accept the things about each other that we cannot accept about ourselves. For your son, I am willing to jump in with both feet, without a parachute, with no actual clue as to who you are - who he is. If you'll have me, I will seek out every happiness for you and Parker. If you'll have me Christine, I promise to protect the two of you with my life... I promise to make sure you have everything you have ever wanted... I promise that I will learn to love you. Whichever kind of love that might be, if you'll have me, I promise that I will try my very best in learning to love you, Christine Daaé."

His gaze was unflappable as he pulled out a tiny black velvet box. As he opened it, he revealed a diamond ring, an aquamarine diamond ring. Christine gasped, she had never seen anything like it before. The diamond was square, the prongs split behind it, lavished with white diamonds. Surely, this had cost him a fortune. She couldn't speak, she was speechless. She simply nodded, her mouth agape at the sounds of his words. He was genuine, she knew so because he didn't stutter. His voice was honest, his words contained so much emotion that she didn't know he felt towards Parker, herself. She could hardly believe what she was saying. He agreed for the sake of her son and that was enough for her. She knew in that moment that saying yes was the only thing she wanted in every crevice of her mind, body, soul, and heart.

"Y-Yes, I will have you. I will m-marry you, Erik." She breathed out as his warm hands slipped the diamond ring on her finger. His lips grazed the knuckle that the ring rested on, his lips feather and overwhelming in every sense.

"Look who is stuttering, now." With a cheeky smile, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly, barely touching her skin. "I meant every word, Christine." She smiled, knowing that he was keen on keeping his word. She glanced down at her ring, still in shock that he had actually spent money on something for her. No one had ever bought her something, let alone a diamond ring.

"This is my birthstone, Erik. Aquamarine births in represents March." She mumbled, looking into the golden eyes of the masked man.

"I know, Meg told me. I bought it before I came here." Grinning widely, he pulled out the wheelchair and began gathering her things from the table beside her.

"Really? What else did she tell you?" Once everything was collected, Erik removed his coat, placing it on the bed. He moved to the side of the bed, preparing to move Christine to the wheelchair.

"Now, if I told you that, what would be fun about this whole three day relationship?" With a wink, he lifted her with ease and placed her in the wheelchair. Covering her with his coat, he tucked the blanket over her gently and checked the room once more.

"Thank you, Erik. For everything, truly. I heard that you made my son very happy." Erik smiled, kneeling in front of Christine. Holding her hands, he gave an airy breath, kissing both of her tiny hands, knowing that he held his future in his very hands. For some reason, that thought didn't frighten him. Smiling tenderly, Christine tilted her head wondering what was going through his mind. Truly, she owed him her life, nothing more and nothing less.

"With this ring, nothing stands before Parker's happiness and with this ring, you come before everything else. Truly Christine, it is everything I will ever need."

* * *

**A/N: Things are happening! Ah, but the road is not always straight and narrow...** .

**78 diamonds! Wow guys, Christine should feel like a queen!**

**But with every kingdom, comes the fall of the empire...**

*** A**


	6. Chapter 6

**There's An App for That**

* * *

_Five Weeks Later _

The château was beautiful, Christine was sure she never wanted to leave. Her burns were scarring as nicely as burns could scar. The stitches were dissolvable, which she was grateful for as well. Bathing was the hardest part of recovery. In the mornings, Maxine the maid that Erik hired to be there for Christine's every need would help her wash her hair, but at night Erik would be the one to help her. She wasn't sure about him seeing her naked, but she shrugged off the thought, knowing that it was bound to happen sometime. The burns on her legs were red, circular splotches. She was unsure if they were going to be a differing color once they healed, but they were high enough up her legs that she didn't have to worry about people seeing them. The burns on her back were more severe. The skin was charred, peeling and red. She was embarrassed and ashamed of the discoloration, knowing that the burns on her back were more noticeable. Doctor Benson had explained that she had landed on her back and her shirt was completely burnt through when the fireman found her. She concurred that she must have tripped and twisted around when she fell. Erik was gentle, Christine could barely feel his touch when he bathed her. He would wash her from the feet up, knowing that her back was the most sensitive. He seemed skilled when it came time to clean the stitches and grafts. It made her wonder what hid behind the mask. His hands worked meticulously as he paid no attention to the fact that there a was a _wet_, _naked_ woman in front of him. They spoke very little when he bathed her, only small responses when she would wince in pain. He reassured her that everything looked normal and that she seemed to be healing well. Although they didn't speak much when he bathed her, he never skipped over telling her that she was beautiful, charred skin and all.

"Erik, I think I am ready to walk today." Christine's voice echoed in the library as she looked outside the vast window, the sunny day bright as ever. Erik glanced up from his newspaper, tilting his head. "I feel strong enough to take a few steps. Do you think you could help me?" Without uttering a word, he rushed to her side. Draping one of her arms over his broad shoulders, he grabbed her free hand with his right hand, steady as ever.

"I will _not_ let you fall. Take it slowly, Christine." His grip was tight around her hand as she pressed down on his fingers. Crouching down to her height, she stood up and moved her right leg in front of her. Placing her foot down, her face cringed in response to the new sensation.

"It feels weird." Erik smiled, never taking his gaze off of her. With a grunt, she put her body weight's pressure down on her right foot and moved her left leg in front of her. Slowly and tentatively, she took a few more steps, Erik keeping a strong, steadfast grip on her. "Look! I'm walking!" She shouted, her legs wobbly from her excitement. Her back hurt immensely, but she didn't care. Before she knew it, she had reached the table, a good fifteen feet from where she started. Exhausted, Erik rested her down onto the chair. "I can't believe I walked..." She mumbled, in awe of her feat.

"I shall get you a walker and a pair of walking bars. Do you want a physical therapist?" Christine pondered for a moment, finally nodding in approval. "I will ask Nadir to search for the best one in the city. I am proud of you, Christine." With a quick kiss on the knuckles, Erik was off in the corner making phone calls. Once he had returned, Christine turned her body inwards, motioning for Erik to sit beside her.

"It's been over a month since you proposed to me and I wanted to talk to you about something." Erik nodded, his attention completely turned the woman that sat in front of him. Glancing down at her engagement ring, she didn't know how he was going to take this conversation. It had sat in the back of her mind since he proposed. Honesty was key, right?

"In time, we will learn about each other. I have things that will be shared with you and surely, this can be the start of it. Only if you want to, Christine." Christine sighed, knowing that this was the best time to do have this conversation. She braced herself with a breath, not knowing the outcome was the scariest thing about it.

"When I was a little girl, I dreamed of getting married to a man who fixed cars and built houses. I wanted a rugged, handyman husband. My father was the handyman in my family. Whenever there was a leak or a broken appliance, there was my dad to fix the refrigerator light. Nothing went unfixed as far as my dad was concerned. When my mom passed away in childbirth, my dad made sure I was always taken care of, just like a leaky sink. Yet, he never took care of himself. I didn't know he passed away until I got a phone call from my Aunt Georgia. That was the night Parker was conceived. He was walking around late at night, hit by a truck and immediately killed. They found ambien in his system. He probably had no idea he was sleep walking." Erik looked at me, his expression unreadable. With a sigh, I continued. "I don't expect you to love _me_ and I don't expect to love _you_... For a long time... I find it difficult for me to emotionally invest myself into situations after Cameron left me and after my father died... I just want you know that when we consummate our marriage, when we have sex for the first time, I want it to be out of love. I want us to make love and take each other in such a way that we never want to part from each other's arms. I don't want to regret it in the morning. I don't want to wake up to empty sheets. I want our first time to count for something. If our wedding night isn't the first time, then so be it. If it isn't out of love, then Erik... I don't want us to have sex at all. That isn't fair to us and it _certainly_ isn't fair to Parker."

Erik smiled, bringing her face closer to his. His hands engulfed her face as he brought his lips to the corner of her mouth, brushing his lips against hers ever-so-delicately. He nodded in understanding, leaning back with her hands in his.

"You will never wake up to empty sheets, Christine. Our first time, shall be whenever you are ready, whenever we feel is the right time. Nothing is hurrying us and nothing is slowing us down. We have an eternity in front of us, but love is something I can concur with, Christine. I will not make love to you against your will, unless your _will_ is in adoration and veneration, love and kindness, beauty and everything else you encompass that makes you, you." His words spilled off his tongue like the richest chocolate she had ever tasted, eloquence in its finest robes. "I must be truthful with you as I have not been truthful with you." Christine nodded, brushing his cheeks with the back of her hand. She had never felt anything so soft, so silky.

"You can trust me." She secretly hoped that he was going to tell her what lay behind the mask, now that they were going to be married, but she didn't hold her breath.

"I have a sister, her name is Arwen, Arwen DeDéaux. It is true that I never knew my father and my mother is a money stealing heathen, but I do have sister. She resides in Paris. She is younger than I am, but I thought you might have gotten the impression that I am an only child." Christine shrugged her shoulders, smiling at his minor confessional.

"We'll share more as time goes on, but tell me... Is she named after The Lord of The Rings character?" Erik let out a truncated laugh, smiling widely at her question.

"Yes, my mother loved those books. I'm afraid that is the only good quality my mother possesses, her aptitude for literature. Besides that, I could not care less for the woman. Although, I do have a stronger apathy for my father. He does not even compare to my mother in my book of hatred." Scoffing at the mention of his father, he shook his head in disappointment, only to rise to his feet. "I will get your wheelchair."

"No, let me walk. Where are we going?" He asked, confused by his sudden motions.

"It is lunchtime. I had Valerie prepare you a lunch, it is in the dining room. It is much too far of a walk, my dear." Christine agreed as he brought up the wheelchair to her feet. Sitting down, he began to push her at a steady pace.

"Erik, will you ever tell me about what is behind your mask?" Erik paused in his pushing, feeling stiff in his body. His eyes widened as he cleared his throat, beginning to push once again. "Erik?"

"I do not want you to be frightened of me, Christine. It is only a story for prison folk that are to be executed, gypsies that perform dark magic, and the dead. You are much too beautiful and too exquisite, to hear such an abysmal tale of the man behind the mask."

* * *

Erik had gone to his office in a rush to complete a business transaction, only after Christine convinced him after an _hour _of arguing that she would indeed be fine without him. She had wondered if his overbearing and protective demeanor was something he was putting on or if he was _truly_ this innately domineering. Nonetheless, she did enjoy their conversation today. She felt as though they had become closer. After a month of almost no exciting conversations, something had truly sparked between them. Meg had reminded her that Parker had art class after school and that she would be taking care of him until six. Meg was a God-send. She couldn't help, but think what would happen if she wasn't engaged to be married. Surely, she would be living with Meg in her tiny apartment. Anyway, Christine wondered deeply about Erik's mask. They never slept in the same room and he never ate a meal with her. He always told her that he had already eaten or that he was an early riser and a night hawk. Truly, what lay behind the mask couldn't be that bad. She was mostly curious about his sister. He never talks about his family, apart from his greedy mother. She wonders if he and his sister had some sort of falling out, possibly. Grabbing her laptop, she rested on her bed comfortably and began her research on his mystery sister.

_Arwen DeDéaux _

_Millionaire Chef to Have Baby! _

Christine sat there, her hand over her mouth as she read the article, stupidly using Google translate to loosely translate the article. The woman had the same golden eyes as Erik did as she discovered a picture of her. Surely, there were not many girls with that name wandering around Paris!

"She is having a baby?" Erik's voice rang out from beside Christine as Christine jumped in a startled motion.

"Holy shit!" She shouted, her breathing hitched in every way. "I didn't even hear you come in the door!"

"I am sorry for that." With a smile, he took the laptop and read the article. "Did you use a translator?"

"I am _sorry_ if I can't speak nineteen different languages and fly a Boeing 747..." She grumbled, taking a sip of a water. Erik chuckled, returning the site back to its original French.

_"Millionnaire chef pour avoir bébé..._" He mumbled, scrolling downwards on the keypad. Christine shivered as the French words rolled off his tongue and onto his lips so enticingly, so beautifully it gave her goosebumps. _"Son mari, Louis Jean-Pierre, espère une fille, mais se fera un plaisir de soit..."_ Reading on, his eyes widened as he shut the computer screen in aggravation. _"Arwen espère que son frère va revenir dans sa vie, pour le bien de sa nièce ou un neveu à naître."_ He sat on the edge of the bed, putting his head between his hands. Shaking his head, he sighed heavily and rubbed his eye._ "Questo non può accadere ..."_

"Erik, you're switching languages on me... I hardly think that's fair..." With a slight smile, he grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently. "Mind telling me what the article said?"

"It was just saying that her husband was hoping for a daughter, but that he would be happy for either. It wrote that my sister hoped I read the article and she prayed that I would come back into her life, for the sake of my unborn niece or nephew... I then cursed my disbelief in Italian. Simple, really." Cheekily, he blinked slowly and rose to his feet. "Your son will be home soon, I will return to you soon. I am going to go call her and tell her that I will not be going to Paris anytime soon."

"Erik, she's your sister. You should go visit her-"

"Christine, I do _not_ wish to fight you. There are many things you do not know and my severed relationship with my family is something that i do not wish for you to be apart of, learn that now. You will be _much_ happier if you stay out of any business that has to do with my family. They are not kind people. There is a reason I moved to America, reasons I wish for you not to know. Please, rest before your son arrives. You did well today with your walking. I am proud of you."

* * *

Meg arrived shortly thereafter with an exhausted Parker. He explained to me that his art class was drawing pictures of barnyard animals and he chose to draw a picture of a horse. He liked all the colors they came in and he especially liked when they run. When he had asked why they were living in the man with the nice office's house, Meg had explained that until their new apartment was ready, this was their home. He understood that the fire burnt down their home and that living in this new home was temporary. Happily, he went along with what Meg was telling him. She didn't want to tell him that he was also getting a father with his new apartment until she spoke to Christine.

"How was your day, Chris?" Meg asked with a smile.

"It was great, I took a couple of steps! It felt amazingly odd. Erik helped me." Meg smiled even wider, scooting next to Christine. "How was school and work?"

"Work was boring and Parker explained that school was fine. His teacher has been treating him delicately since the fire." Christine nodded, tired from the day's activities.

"I learned that Erik has a sister who is a millionaire chef in Paris. She's also going to have a baby! He, uh, refuses to visit her, though. He got all touchy on the subject." Christine looked down at her toes, recalling his strict voice. "Something happened between them that he doesn't want to talk about... Ever."

"Well, I mean there are things that happened to you that you never want to bring up ever again. Sometimes when you bury things, you bury them with the intention of never digging them back up, Chris. I'm happy for his sister, though. What's her name?" Christine laughed slightly, remembering the tiny conversation she had with Erik.

"Her name is Arwen, like the Elf." Meg smiled widely, clapping her hands in excitement. "I also asked him about the mask. He didn't seem to want to talk about that either. We did have the sex talk, though..."

"Do you think he's a virgin?" Christine slapped the blonde girl's arm, only knowing the truth behind it. "What? It's a valid question! You should ask him! There's no shame in asking. He is going to be _your_ husband, after all Chris." Christine thought about it. He had admitted he never had kissed a woman, but that could have been a clever act. He doesn't stutter anymore and yet, she couldn't see why a woman _wouldn't _want to lay her hands all over his majestic body.

"Maybe."

* * *

Parker had turned in for the night and Christine was in the large sitting room, at least that's what Erik called it. He was working on something for his business, cursing to himself in some foreign language she didn't recognize. Meg's voice echoed in the back of her head as Christine debated on asking _the _question. Finally, Christine decided to clear her throat and get the skinny on the man behind the mask.

"Erik? Can you help me over to the seat next to the fire? I'm getting cold over here. I want to walk over there, though." Erik immediately stood, rushing to her side. Assuming the same position, she took slow steps to the seat beside the fire. Letting her down easily, she made herself comfortable. "Wait, don't leave me here. I want to ask you something." He sat across from her, enjoy the embers that the fire sparked.

"_La mia mente è tuo._" He smiled politely, glancing at the raging fire beside him. "My mind is yours." Intoxicated by his foreign lips, she began.

"When you called me, you were nervous. You stuttered a lot... Why are you such a calm... Sexy... Handsome... Not nervous man now?" He shrugged his shoulders, bringing his hand to his nose.

"There are many facets to a individual's personality. When I found out I had to take on the responsibility of a child and a wife, something within me turned. I had to become a husband and a future father in the matter of seventy two hours. A stuttering fool could be no such thing. I am a business man, a composer, a connoisseur of language and art. If I am to become a husband, a father, I must transform myself into such roles. By day, you were a waitress, by night you were a temptress. My nervousness was real, but I had to lose the stutter as soon as I accepted the fact that I was going to propose to you. Do you understand?" She nodded, entranced by his words, stupefied by his dedication. Why was he giving so much to her, when she was giving so little to him?

"I must ask you, then... A-Are you a v-virgin?" He laughed briefly, scratching his neck in awkwardness and stiffness. Scrunching his eyes, he began once again, sure to mystify his audience.

"I was married once before, Christine. Just as I turned eighteen, I married a woman named Alora. She was the love of my life, I would do anything to get her back. She was from Italy, you see. That is why I am fluent in Italian. She did not speak French. My mother had taken me on a trip to Italy when I was eighteen for my gift and we met. I fell instantly in love. My three week vacation ended in marriage. My mother was furious as I refused to leave my Alora. We eventually moved to London and immediately, she was pregnant. We had a daughter named Paradís. For the first two years of our marriage, it was utopia. Until one day, when I returned from work. Our windows were broken into and the front door was kicked in, Christine." He choked on his words, shutting his eyes. "There was my Alora, my Paradís, bound and dead on the bedroom floor. They were naked, I dare not say what had happened to them. Bullet holes in there heads, I did not know how long they had been dead. I did not know how long I had stopped breathing. She was only two. She was only twenty." Tears streamed down his face, his voice coarse with horror as he stared blankly to the floor.

"I do not remember what happened after that. I awoke in a hospital, weeks after. I had been shot in the face, the doctors say I was lucky they missed my eye. The shooter took most of my cheek bone off and the second shot took part of my forehead, too. They tried to reconstruct it, but too many tendons and ligaments were lost that the shape of my right side would never be repaired." He wiped his with his shirt, his hands trembling with agonizing memories. "I do not eat with you, because it is almost impossible to eat without my mask on and I do not wish to show you my mangled face. I do not sleep in the same bed as you for multiple reasons. One, we are not wed. Two, I sleep without my mask on and three, we are not wed. I was in the hospital for two years with significant nerve damage to my face. Once they released me, I was about twenty three. I found my muse in music and art. I hid away in a small cottage in the mountains. I made masks and sold my compositions under another name. I got paid well enough to earn a flight back to Paris. My mother was horrified at my face. She told me that my dead wife was the reason for it and that I should have never married her in the first place. She cursed my Alora and she beat me. I could not fight back, I do not hit women, let alone my mother. I was furious, though. As for my sister, I looked to her for comfort and she did not appease my pain. She blamed me for the death of her niece. She said that if it were not for me and my stupid decisions, my daughter would not be dead. She has apologized since then, confessed to a priest, done everything she could to get me to forgive her... But nothing will mask the pain of losing my family." Straightening his posture, he cleared his throat once again.

"I moved to America when I turned twenty five, having enough of Paris and their opera house. I changed my name and found out that my grandfather had a company about to go under and that my father's name was in the will. Seeing that my father was an insufferable bastard, I took the company under my wing and made it what it is today. I met my assistant Nadir Khan at a Macy's. I had no idea how a business man should dress. He helped me and we became close friends since then." With a sigh, he leaned forward and grabbed her tiny hands.

"Christine, I hope to one day pass off my company to Parker. I do not care that he is deaf. He is going to be my son and therefore, I trust that he will one day be a suitable owner of my company." Christine had tears streaming down her face, never had she cried so much until she met this man. He quickly wiped her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "_Non piangere, io sono qui..._"

Christine laughed to herself, only causing her to cry more. She didn't know why she was crying so much. He had released his heart onto his sleeves, yet there was so much more she didn't know. She knew that when the time was right, he would reveal himself and when the time was right, she would show herself.

"I d-don't s-speak goddamn F-French..." She mumbled, stuttering through the tears.

"That was Italian, Christine. I plan on teaching you both languages before I die, by the way." Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he smiled warmly, lifting her up into his arms. "Do not weep, I am here."

* * *

Erik had tucked her into bed and said his goodbyes. He sang her to sleep in a different language, lulling her to a lethargic state as he slipped out in the night. Making his way down to his quarters, he laid down onto his bed, discarding of his vest, tie, and dress shirt. He sighed heavily, removing his mask, shaking down to his bone at the brisk air hitting his face. He enjoyed the sensation as he laid down for moments, taking in the breeze. He felt at peace, telling Christine the truths of his past. Although he had so much more to tell, he thought he was off to a good start. He vowed to himself that he would do anything to protect Parker and that meant not letting his mother near him and that was something he was keen on doing. Tomorrow was going to be an adventure.

_Alora, il mio amore... _

_È questro che non va? Mi manchi così tanto. Se solo tu fossi qui. Accanto a me. _

_Buonanotte, amore mio. Buonanotte, _

_Paradís dare un bacio per me. _

"Erik?" The softest knock ever heard proceeded as he moved to put his robe on, creeping towards the door.

"Who is it?" He answered, holding his mask.

"Christine, please let me in, it is urgent. It cannot wait! Please!" She shouted, sound in as if she was in pain. No time to put the mask on, he opened the door only to be met by a warm set of lips against his. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pressing her body against his. His lips lay frozen, his eyes bewildered at the sight in front of him.

"_Mon dieu_..." He mumbled as she pulled away, out of breath. She fell upon him, unable to stand any longer, her legs giving out underneath her. He caught her with ease, lifting her into his arms. He brought her into his room and sat her on his bed. "Pardon the mess..." Still overwhelmed with the turn of events, he moved to put on his mask.

"No, don't put it on Erik." She took the mask out of his hand and threw it to the opposite side of the bed, examining his face. He was correct, the cheek bone was missing and the tissue of the shell of his skull was exposed. He had no eyebrow, but it she didn't mind. His skin was stretched, leathery to the touch, thin to the bone - what was left of it. There was a hole where his nose would have been, her fingers running over the lacerated scars underneath his eye. Truly, she felt enraged for the bastard who shot him twice! He never felt a sensation like this, a willing subject who ran their fingertips over his face. His lips were misshapen, but great to kiss. She smiled softly, handing back his mask.

"You may put it back on if it makes you comfortable." She stated, her voice calm.

"It does not frighten you?" He asked, his mind racing faster than his heart.

"No, it fascinates me. Your lips are very kissable, by the way. Alora is a lucky woman."

"Is?" He placed the masked over his face, securing it tightly in its place.

"Yes, I heard you speak to her. She is not gone completely, Erik. She watches over you to make sure you stay in line. Your daughter as well, she protects you. I'm lucky if I measure up to be half the woman your wife was. I have a big shoe to fill." His eyes watered, his head nodding in gratitude at her kind words. "Do you think I could sleep in here tonight?" Smiling softly, he bent down and kissed her hand, only knowing that she had made him happier than he had felt in years.

"I would be disappointed if you did not."

* * *

**A/N: Some secrets are being revealed! How exciting! More to come soon. Read & review my lovelies. I hope you are enjoying it. By far the longest chapter at almost five thousand words. I loved writing it. Erik's character is developing well. Christine is sure crying a lot, though... For someone who doesn't want to be emotionally involved in a forced marriage... Just something to think about...**

**Funnily enough, I used a translator online. (not google translator...) if it is wrong, I am very sorry. I summed it up though, in English just in case! **

**Much love! **

*** A **


	7. Chapter 7

**Press One for More Options**

* * *

Parker had grown accustomed to living in the château, becoming close friends with Erik. Parker had found safety in Erik, a safety he never felt with anybody else. He taught Erik how to sign with his right hand, which was easier said than done. Erik declared many times that composing a German opera was easier than using the side of his brain that was required to learn Sign Language with his right hand. Christine _loathed_ the fact that Erik could add _ambidextrous _to the list of his skills. Nonetheless, Christine and Erik's relationship had remained stagnant and platonic. Parker asked on multiple occasions what the ring on his mother's finger meant, but Meg only told the young child that it was a, 'Get Well' gift from Erik. No one had spent that much money on his mother ever. Parker knew in his heart that it was more than a gift that meant well. Growing more frustrated at the lack of explanations, Parker grew more distant from Meg and his mother, but clung onto Erik, hoping that he would provide him with answers. He related to Erik in a multitude of ways. He realized that Erik was different, just like he was. Parker did not know that Erik's mask was removable, he simply thought that he was born with a mask. Erik never argued with him. Many nights when Parker would roam the house in adventures where he pretended he was a pirate, he had seen Meg and his mother yell at each other often since they moved into the large house. Parker had not seen them argue like this since he was a young boy and a taller man came over to their home. He was throwing things, hurting his mother. After he left, Meg was shouting at mother. He wished he could understand Meg, he wished he could help his mother. Yet, all he could do was cower in the corner, defenseless in his own little world. They never signed when they were arguing and wished that Erik taught him to read lips. Erik promised him that on his sixth birthday, he would begin to teach him how to read lips, secretly. Parker wished to surprise his mother and Aunt Meg. Parker wished to show the two most important people in his life that he could be just like them.

"Why are Aunt Meg and mommy mad at each other?" Parker asked, sitting across the masked man in his office on the second floor of the large house. Parker looked around, noticing that Erik chewed his pens, but only the black ones. The pictures on his walls were black and white, never in color. He had a vast collection of books in Latin, making Parker wonder if he could read Latin. Being deaf, Parker often picks up on details. He made a mental note of getting Erik new black pens for Christmas.

"I do not know. Why do you think they are mad?" Erik responded, partly distracted with the papers in front of him. An international company had shown interest in his, but he could not escape to his main office to make the deal. Christine was resting after a physical therapy appointment and asked if Erik could watch Parker. Meg was at work, leaving Erik with the child.

"I see them shouting at each other all the time. Can I ask you something?" Parker inquired, tilting his head at the sight of Erik's bruised hand.

"You did just ask me something." With a smile, Erik gestured for Parker to continue.

"Do you love my mother?" Erik paused, slowly making eye contact with the boy. His breathing was caught between his throat and swallowing hard. He was at a loss for words, thoughts, and explanations to give the boy. Straightening his posture, he licked his lips and exhaled with sincerity.

"I care for your mother very much. Why do you ask?" Erik's curiosity was sprung, his pulse never raced like it was at this moment.

"My mother is very sad and when she looks at you, she is happy. Isn't that what love is, Erik?" The masked man froze, his eyes closing in a flurry of emotions.

He knew deep within himself that it was not love he felt towards Christine, no it could not be. Yet, he did care for her. He was devastated when he heard she had been hurt in a fire. He stopped everything that day to get to the hospital. He barely knew her, however he willingly and aggressively paced the waiting room floor for a woman he met once. It was not love, he was not in love with her. He cared for her, like a friend cares for another friend. That is all he feels towards Christine. Nothing could pull him from his Alora, his Paradís. She was his true love, his daughter was his one and only. He vowed to never love another after the horrendous loss of his family, yet he agreed to propose to a woman he barely knew. He realized that he did not even know Christine's middle name, her father's name, her mother's name. He simply was aware of her birthday and the information she was willing to give to him. Was he crazy to agree to a marriage? Possibly, but he remember the reasoning for his agreement. The child was at stake, he could not go back to a life where he had no father, just as Erik had. Parker needed medical help, he needed to be shown _love_, and he needed to be shown that there was hope outside the world he had built for himself. In his moment of silence, Erik then realized to himself, he cared deeply for Christine and would keep to his promise: to learn to love her as she would learn to love him.

* * *

Christine was well-over two months past the fire, now. She was walking on her own, _profusely_ refusing to use the cane that Doctor Charter recommended she used until her back was fully recovered. Her thighs healed up nicely, the discoloration not as bad as she originally thought it would turn out to be. Her back was the problem. Someone in heaven must have loved her, because if she had laid on that fire any longer, the flames would have burned part of her spine and she could have risked paralysis. Luckily and by the grace of God himself, she had severely burnt tissues in her back, slow to healing. As per routine, Erik was always there in the evenings to bathe her, never making a comment about the wet, naked woman in front of him. He was gentle and reassuring, getting the job done quickly and efficiently as he helped dry her off and clothe her for bed. Since the night he shared the news of his late family, they have not shared a bed since. She insists for hours, repetitiously to no end, but his velvety voice and that damn foreign tongue always seems to win her over, again and again. There was something awakening inside her that she did not enjoy, as she opened her eyes every morning, glancing over at the empty sheets beside her. She never forget his promise of empty sheets. Surely, when they married he would share a bed with her? Christine thought about it often as she laid lonely in bed in the mornings, never realizing just _how_ much she cared for Erik. She did not wish to feel this way, though. She promised herself that she would not get emotionally attached to him, fearing that this relationship - arrangement - would end up like all her other relationships. Clearly, he was still bound to his late wife. Christine also pondered upon the thought of his late wife. She knew that she would never measure up to what his late wife was - meant to him. Christine knew that for a fact, she would just be some woman he married, because he pitied her deaf son.

* * *

"I hate this damn cane!" Christine shouted in frustration, plopping down on her butt in the middle of her staircase. She shoved her face into her hands, groaning in defeat.

"Shall I carry you to your next destination then, my dear?" Looking up, her eyes trailed up the black slacks in wonderment, her eyes landing on the blue silk tie, tucked neatly behind the gray vest. His sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up, indicating that he had been composing or playing the violin. She could not help, but look at his fit arms as he made his way up the staircase, running his fingertips up the wooden banister.

"I'm not an invalid, _Monsieur_." His smile was wide, one that was rare. He barely smiled, letting his top of teeth make an appearance. "I can make it down these stairs just fine." She stood to her feet, only for her knees to give out beneath her. She began to fall forward, lurching over the banister to catch her body.

"I never called you one. My dear, you remembered that word. I am proud of you. Really, it is of no problem, _Mademoiselle._" Lifting up her arms up and off of the banister, he nodded politely and scooped up her tiny body with ease. She winced in pain, fidgeting in his grasp. "If you keep squirming, I will drop you and you will _have _to use that damned cane." Rolling her eyes, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. His body emanated heat, comforting her as he descended down the staircase and towards the sitting room.

"No, take me to wherever you were! I want to... Be with you." Erik silently replied, turning towards the music room. He bent down, moving his chin towards the doorknob. "Oh! Sorry!"

Opening the door, Christine's breath was taken from her. The walls were a rich purple, royalty in every way. The grand piano rested gloriously in the right hand corner, shining brightly in the sun. Opposite the grand piano, a shelve of stringed instruments graced the purple wall. She only recognized the violin, wishing she still had her grandfather's. Sighing slightly as Erik set her down on the black velour seat beside the stringed instruments, she noticed that there was a pipe organ in the corner diagonal her. He had more files of scores and sheets music, organized just as she remembered he had in his penthouse. She had not realized that there was more music out there. Her mind was mystified at his cavern, his little world he had built for himself. A wooden table sat in the middle with a black leather chair, a laptop opened on some musical website she assumed. Sheets and sheets of marked and unmarked music were laid out upon the desk, some crumpled and some put in nice binders. They were labeled in calligraphic handwriting, varying in languages, yet it was the Latin language that caught Christine's attention.

"This is the place you've been running off to, then?" Erik brought his desk chair up to her, taking his seat. The curve of his lips merged into a tender smile as he gave a childish-guilt ridden expression. "I've never seen such a beautiful room, Erik. Do you play all these instruments?"

"I mostly play either the piano or violin. The organ is reserved for special occasions, my dear." Intrigued by his inquiry, Christine sat up and exchanged a glance towards the pipe organ. It encompassed magnificence, elegance, and she could tell by one look that Erik had poured everything loved into that one instrument.

"Special occasions? What do you deem a, 'special occasion,' Monsieur?" He took her left hand in his, placing an innocent kiss on her knuckle, above her engagement ring.

"I have composed a song for our wedding night that I will play and sing for you on the organ, Christine. The pipe organ is my most prized instrument. I built it myself, key by key. I wish to share that with you on the night that we wed. We are to start a life together and I want it to begin with me exposing just a sliver of what _my _world has to offer us." His tone was honest, almost melodic as he professed his passionate plea for Christine's approval. "I do not wish to frighten you, my dear. You have accept my flaws and I cannot be more grateful, but there is something within me that I cannot change." His voice turned dark, desperate as his gaze averted to the pipe organ. "When the music consumes me... When I lock myself in the deep caverns of my mind... The music that runs through my blood, overtakes my body and something extraordinary happens, something supernatural in every way takes place. I hope you can understand, Christine."

"I just pray that I will be able to walk down the isle..." She trailed off, playing with the lace of her loose shirt, her burns making it _impossible _to wear anything tight. "I don't want to disappoint you, Erik. I know that we agreed to wait to... Consummate our marriage... But I don't want to have to use a cane on our damn wedding day! It's so frustrating having to be waited on hand and foot. Don't even get me started on the fact that having someone bathing me is totally degrading to my pride..." She slapped her hands over her face, trying her very hardest to suppress her tears.

It was true, she did not want to disappoint him. Although this was not the most conventional way to go about a marriage, she still cared for him. Christine took her role as a future wife seriously, she did not want to disappoint her husband - the husband she knew nothing about. She had not a clue as to why she felt so emotionally attached to a wedding she knew that hardly meant anything. It was a wedding to prove to Cameron that she was better off without him. That is what Meg had explained, that is what they had been arguing about for the past month. Well, rather that is what Meg had been yelling about for the past month. Christine found herself actually defending the engagement and the wedding. If she was to marry Erik, she thought she might as well get to know him and _try _to be a wife. She very well knew that love was not involved in this agreement, but the way that he cared about Parker was undeniably the nicest thing someone has ever done for her. She would hate to disappoint someone who has gone to such great lengths to make sure she and her son had a roof over their heads.

"My dear, you could never disappoint me. I know that we do not know much about each other, but you could never disappoint me. You could be pushed down the isle in a glass box, completely sedated, and I would still say my vows. I would still finish the day with an, 'I do.' You need not ever worry about disappointing me. I agreed to propose to you, should not that count for something?" Erik knelt down in front of Christine, wrapping his hands around her wrists with a feathery touch. Removing her hands, he intertwined their fingers, his clement expression fixed on her green eyes. "If we are to go into a marriage together, unseeing of what lays ahead, you must know two things about me, my dear. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." She whispered, her hands trembling as his gold-flecked eyes searched hers.

"The first thing you must know is that I will do everything and anything to protect my family. Nothing and no one will harm my family. I have already lost one family, I will not risk anything to lose this one. I hire people to wait on you hand and foot, because I worry for you, constantly. Once we say, 'I do,' we become a family and I do not take that word as a joke. Everything I do, is to make sure your needs and Parker's needs are taken care of to their full potentials. Do you understand?" Christine nodded, hesitant of his second point. She felt confused by his words, his passion. "The second and most important thing to know about is me that I care for you deeply, Christine... I do, but I do not share specific things with you for your safety. My childhood and young adult life is not something I wish to speak of, ever. It is to protect you and your son. It is not to hide anything from you, it is simply to protect you and shield you from the evil and darkness that consumed my life before I moved to America. I care about you, maybe more than i have cared about someone in a long time, therefore I ask of you not to ask about my family. Do you understand?" Christine nodded once more as Erik rose to his feet. Holding his hand out, he blinked languidly and exhaled a long breath. "Oh and Christine, bathing you has been an honor."

* * *

_That Night_

Erik had bathed and gotten ready to turn in that night. He much enjoyed having Christine bask in the music that he played for her throughout the afternoon. She sang for him, helping him compose another score for some independent film in California. They spoke of the wedding and the guests they wished to invite. Erik thought about sending his sister an invitation, truly. He decided against it when the horrors of the tragic day filled him as he showered after his long day of composing finally ended. During dinner, Meg, Parker, Christine, and himself had a vivacious conversation about Parker's new found love painting using water colors. Erik made a mental note of buying Parker an easel and some water color paints from Christmas. Meg and Christine did not speak much during dinner, there being an obvious tension between them. He did not ask about it. Erik never enjoyed meddling in other's affairs, but he figured that that would changed once he became married once again. He did not mind the fact of re-marrying. It was the fact of re-marrying a woman he barely knew that seemed to hang over his head. He asked forgiveness from Alora constantly, yet he never heard an answer back. Christine was a joy to be around, her smile and giggling infectious to the ear and sight. Erik found himself wanting to be around her more and more, but he also found himself emotionally distancing himself from her the more time went on, the closer it got to the wedding. He was not sure what it was about her that drew him in, though. He kept thinking about the first time he heard her voice on the phone. It was so tantalizing, so enticing. He almost lost all the blood in his head when he heard her voice for the first time. Yet, the guilt that looms on his shoulders for calling a such a place like that is a much greater feeling. To put it simply, Erik was perplexed by the situation and he had no idea of what he wanted. With the wedding barely three weeks away, he knew he did not have a lot of time to figure out his feelings towards Christine. He did not have enough time for anything.

Erik stood, looking out towards the New York cityscape in his office. His hands were behind his back, his mind elsewhere. The wedding was nearing at barely three weeks away and he was in no way prepared. They were a small church in Bedford, the only attendants being a couple of people that Christine worked with, her son, Meg and Nadir. Christine wished that they got married in the winter, she had always dreamed of a winter wedding. Erik had told her that money was of no concern, but stubbornly she still kept a budget. With three weeks to go though, she still had no dress.

"Mr. Deslow, your fiancée is here- OW! Stop, hitting me! Christine Daaé, is here! Let her in, oh God!" Baker had begged through the intercom, earning a slight chuckle from the masked man.

"Send her in, please." Erik responded, absolutely curious as to _how_ Christine got to his office and _why_ she was here. His thoughts were truncated as Christine's brown tresses soon flowed through the black-tempered glass doors, her pajamas making an entrance. "Christine-"

"If you're going to comment on my pajama, don't and spare me. These are the only clothes that don't irritate my damn back! Everything is going horribly, Erik! We're supposed to be married in three weeks and I still don't have a dress, because why? Oh why, you ask? MAYBE BECAUSE I CAN'T TRY ANYTHING ON, BECAUSE OF THESE DAMN BURNS ON MY BACK! Everything is going to hell and it's just horrible! I'm so damn sensitive everywhere! We might as well just forget the wedding. Just here's your ring and here's your key! I'll just go take Parker and live like... At a shelter or something. I don't know! I can't do anything. Everything hurts on my body. This wedding is a disaster. I'll have to walk down the isle nude, because everything hurts on my body! That dumb doctor Raoul said I should be healed by now! Why aren't i healed!? Do you know how painful it was to walk here?! Jesus, my back is killing me!" Erik stood speechless as he lowered her body into a chair, cupping her face. Moving her hair behind her, he took her flailing hands in his. Her face was red and her breathing was irregular. He waited for her to get her breathing down to a slow pace, slipping her engagement ring back onto her finger, before he took off his mask and wig before her. "Erik, I..."

"Do not speak, my dear. I understand what you are going through. My face... It hurt... It still hurts, but I assure you that your burns will get better. I will take you to the doctors now, I am sure he will have an explanation as to why they are not healed yet. If you are not ready to get married in three weeks, then we can wait. There is no rush, my dear. You are going to force yourself into a shock, a panic attack. I do not want you to be admitted into the hospital again. You and Parker shall remain in the château, with me, alright? You two are not going anywhere. If you wish to walk down the isle nude, then that is up to you. I have no objections." With a cheeky grin, Christine pushed his shoulder lightly, running a hand through her hair. Placing her fingertips on his mangled cheekbone, his jaw quivered at the new sensation. Her fingers traced the leathery skin, the thin scars that grew over the cheek and underneath the eye. She was fascinated in absolute veneration for the man that knelt before her. "Why did you walk all the way here? It is quite far and you are not ready to walk such great lengths."

"None of the staff would let me out of the house, so I snuck out of the house and walked here. I just... Needed to see you. I knew you would calm me down." She looked down into her lap, as if she was ashamed to admit such a thing. He exhaled once more, lifting her head with a gentle hand. Pressing an affectionate kiss to her forehead, a faint shade of pink appeared on her cheeks as he pulled away, the heat of her forehead still lingering on his lips. "What am I supposed to do about a wedding dress, Erik?"

"You can get a custom made one, my dear. It can be silk and loose fitting. It is just a thought, though." She shook her head, knowing that he just wanted to spend money on her. With a pause, he smiled widely, another rarity. "If this makes my offer any better, it would match my tie."

* * *

Nadir Khan was Erik's first friend as he voyaged to America. He was the first man who did not question his mask. Erik saw Nadir as the _only _option for his best man, yet Erik had no good way of going about the situation. Nadir had no idea of the arrangement, thus far. To his knowledge, Christine was a girl Erik met in Paris who had resurfaced in America three months ago. Erik took her to dinner and they connected just as they did in Paris days. He asked her to marry her and she said yes. Today, Erik was to tell Nadir the truth of Christine and how they met. Nadir was one to speak his mind, unafraid of Erik. In turn, Erik was unafraid of Nadir. They acted like brothers, always at each other's throat, never forgetting that they have one another's backs. Truly loyal to one another, Erik feared what Nadir's response was going to be. It was unconventional, the engagement, but Erik cared for Christine and Parker. As he told Christine, he would learn to love her and just hope that she would do the same. Surely, Nadir has heard much crazier things come out of Erik's mouth in the last six years he has lived here.

"Erik, my brother, how have you been?" Nadir's deep voice echoed through the office as he entered the room.

"I have been busy, as always. How is your family, Nadir?" Nadir nodded happily, shrugging in peace.

"They are as good as it gets, my brother. Are we here to talk about your mother?" Erik almost gagged. Shaking his head, Nadir raised his hands in surrender as he took his seat across from Erik. "Pray tell brother, what news do you bring?" Erik took a deep breath, bracing himself for the tongue lashing he was about to endure. Exhaling, he straightened out his vest and nodded in continuance.

"As you know, I am getting married in three weeks to Christine. You briefly met her in the hospital, I believe..." Nadir nodded slowly, skeptical of the conversation at hand. "Nadir, I know we got engaged in a short time and you also know that you are like a brother to me... Well, I have not been truthful with you."

"My brother, I assure you that whatever you have to say I will be able to forgive. You are a generous man, Erik." Erik swallowed hard, closing his eyes in anticipation..

"I... I did not meet Christine in Paris." Nadir sat, utterly confused. "I met her... One night... I had called a type of hotline that provides certain services, you see and it just so happened that Christine was the girl who had picked up that night..." Erik continued explaining the story to a wide-mouthed Nadir. They sat in silence, Erik shifting in his seat. "Nadir, I brought you here in totally honesty... I want you to be my best man. You deserve it more than anybody and it would not be my wedding without you." Nadir nodded, his eyes glossy. Erik was not entirely sure that he was breathing. "Nadir?"

"Oh, Allah... Do you even love her, Erik?" Nadir's voice was disconcerting. Erik knew that Nadir cared deeply for him, but he did not know how to answer this question. In three weeks, he was to be married to a woman he barely knew. It was an obligation.

"I care for her and her son, Nadir. I agreed, because I saw myself in her son. I could not let her son grow up in a life where he was shut out from the world. I could not let him have a childhood like I did. I will learn to love, Christine. Whether it be romantic love or platonic love, love will come to us, Nadir. She is a nice girl-"

"Being a nice girl is _not_ a good enough reason to marry someone, Erik!" He interjected, his voice ricocheting of the walls. "You know nothing about this woman, Erik! How can you go through a marriage that you basically know nothing about? You do not know Christine and she does not know you."

"You did not know Shahla!" Erik spat back, enraged by Nadir's words. His fists were balled and he could feel the veins in his temples protruding. Was he _actually _defending Christine?

"That was an arranged marriage, Erik. It is tradition in my country. This is America, this is a free country. You _had_ the freedom to say no to Miss Giry. You _had_ the freedom to not call that vulgar hotline. You _have _the freedom to call off this wedding right now. You _have_ the freedom to spare Christine and her son a lifetime of heartbreak and sorrow. What will happen when she finally says, 'I love you?' Hm? What will happen when she falls for you and all you can muster up is a lousy, 'I care deeply for you, my dear.' It is not fair to the boy, it is not fair to the woman. He is going to think that you love him. He is going to think that he finally has a father who actually gives two cents about him. You are going to hurt her more by going through with this marriage, than you would have by walking away at the get-go." Nadir sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. "I will be your best man, but know if you go through with this marriage, I will have nothing good to say about it. It is unfair to both parties. For the sake of her family and yourself, please think over these next three weeks carefully, Erik."

* * *

**A/N: I finally reached a 5k word chapter! tension rises! read and review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Speak to Call**

* * *

_Ford Janson General_

Erik was pacing again, the tile beneath his feet slippery against his shoes. It was the day after Christine had visited him at the office in a frantic state of mind, calling off the engagement, talking about moving to a shelter, and in her pajamas. He was worried that there was something wrong with her recovery. He had seen nothing wrong with the stitching when he bathed her, the skin peeling was normal, and the redness died down after a few weeks. He was not a doctor, but all her symptoms seemed normal. He constantly worried about Christine and Parker, almost as if it was innate, coded in his genome. His mind would wander to thoughts of Parker at art class. He wondered if Parker had his lunch or his water color palette. Erik often worried if Parker remembered to bring in an item for Show and Tell on Fridays, never wanting him to feel left out of anything. Erik never worried like this before. With Alora, he was carefree, maybe a bit too carefree. Although, he worried as any husband and father should, something pushed him to worry more for Christine's welfare. He incessantly asked about her well being throughout the day. He dreaded going to the office, when he rather would be at home to take care of Christine. Maybe it was that she was recovering from a horrendous accident or maybe it was that Parker was deaf and needed extra care. Erik did not know, Erik did not care. He liked worrying about them. Nadir noticed the sudden change in Erik after he spoke to him about freedom. Erik noticed it too.

"It is a muscle relaxant, Christine. It will help. Until Doctor Charter comes in tomorrow, this will have to do for now." Erik pleaded, his words trying to coax Christine. She sat in her bed, shaking her head. Two white pills in his hands taunted her as she glanced down, pushing his hand away from her. "Christine, it will help you sleep. _Croyez-moi, s'il vous plaît." _That was it, she could no longer the resist his French tongue, no matter how hard she pouted and grunted. "Trust me, please."

"Erik, you have to promise me you won't laugh at me, okay?" He tilted his head in confusion, parting his lips to speak.

"I promise." He nodded in confirmation, smiling softly towards her.

"I... I never learned how to swallow pills. My father never taught me and I always just drink liquid medicine. It's cheaper than pills, you know." He let out a breezy chuckle, taking the pills away from her. "Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh at me!"

"I am not laughing. I just think..." He shook his head, trying to hide the apparent smile on his face.

"What? That it's stupid? That it's stupid that a twenty five year old woman can't swallow pills, Erik?" Her tone was condescending as he placed the pills on the bedside table. "You know one of these days, I'm gonna find something that you can't do- What are you..." His thumb began to trace her chin, his gaze fixated on her pink lips. Moving his thumb up ever-so-slightly, he ran the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip, earning a shaky exhale from Christine. "D-doing..." Without a word, he stepped away from the bed, blinking at a snail's pace. Christine looked at him, his expression unreadable. Finally, he expunged the air from his lungs and turned on his heel.

"I will get you a liquid form of medicine." Christine sat dazed and confused, enticed by the touch of his hand upon her lip. She took the tiny pills in her hands, glaring down at them in disgust.

"I suppose we should see what that was about?" She whispered. Upon his return, he brought a tray in of medicine, a glass of water, and a tiny wrapped gift. He set the tray down on the bedside table and reached out his hand.

"Perhaps for another time, Christine." He put the pills back in the bottle, putting them in the bedside table. Handing her the grotesque red liquid, he held the glass of water ready for her to switch. "Cheers." Christine crinkled her face in disgust as she down the red liquid, quickly asking for the glass of water. Erik smiled, knowing that she wishes she knew how to swallow pills. He pulled a chair up beside her and put the gift in his hands. "I know Christmas is not for another three weeks and our wedding for another two, but I saw this in a window as I came home from the office yesterday. I thought you would like it. You seemed distraught about our wedding. I hear gifts make women... Not distraught." He handed her the tiny gift, the color of the box giving the present away in an instant.

"You just happened to pass by Tiffany's yesterday?" Christine asked with an incredulous tone. Slowly, she pulled at the white ribbon, placing it delicately beside her.

"It was on the way." Christine raised an eyebrow, continuing to open the box, only to have her breath taken from her. Two weddings bands sat in a velvet box, his matte black and hers silver, embellished with white diamonds. "Read the inside of the rings, my dear." She picked up her ring, tilting it to get the view of inside of it.

"_Learn To Love,_" She read, picking up Erik's wedding band with a trembling hand. "_Again With Me_." His hand gently moved his ring back into box, turning her ring to the other side. He had moved to sit beside her, her body crumbling into his side. "E-Erik..." He held her closely, holding up her wedding band, placing a kiss on her temple.

"Read again, my dear..." He breathed, his hands encapsulating hers. She brought the ring to her watery eyes, only catching a glimpse of the foreign words.

"I... I don't s-speak F-French..." She mumbled into his chest.

"_Toujours_." He slipped off the bed, kneeling on the floor. He put the ring safely back into the box, cupping her face in his hands.

"W-what does t-that m-mean?" She stuttered out, her words hindered by her sniffles.

"Mon amour, it means _forever_." He leaned forward, pressing another kiss to her forehead, wiping her tears with his hands. He hated seeing her crying. With a smile, he rose to his feet and grabbed the tray. She felt empty as he began to leave the room. The weddings bands were valuable, he had put so much thought into them.

"I will see you in the morning. Doctor Charter will be here around nine. I shall wake you around eight. Goodnight, my dear."

As the door closed, she picked up the box again, examining the rings. She could not help, but think how fitting the black ring was. It was shiny at the rims, but coarse in the middle. Perfect for Erik, elegant for a woman's taste. He had calmed her down so much yesterday, he truly cared. She wondered if he was beginning to love her, if this was the start of the learning process. Was she to begin the learning process as well? She promised to make an effort as well, but there was something holding her back. She did not know what to do. When did she really ever know what to do?

* * *

Meg had been taking care of Parker for three months now and it was simply exhausting. She loved him like he was her own, but she had work and missed her apartment. Christine had blamed Meg for putting them in this situation, rightfully so, but Meg was questioning Christine as to why they did not hire a babysitter. Erik did not like the thought of a babysitter, he was much more comfortable with Meg. Erik even offered to pay Meg for her services. Christine and Meg were fighting much more than before. Meg did not know why Christine was taking orders from Erik, when she had never taken orders from anyone before. Who was Erik to say if Parker could have a babysitter or not? Who was Erik to boss around Christine? Meg was infuriated that Christine let Erik boss her around like a toy soldier. Christine defended Erik, yet again blaming Meg that this was all her fault. Meg did not _actually _think that Christine was _actually _going to start falling for this man she barely knew. It took five dates for her and Cameron to agree to be boyfriend and girlfriend, finally. Yet, Meg still gets all the blame, the babysitting job, and no recognition for it. Meg dare not take this out on Parker. No, that would be rude. She had had her fill of Christine. It was time she moved on to a more intelligent life form. Someone who could handle her. Someone like Erik.

"Yes, she's this way. I am sorry for dragging you out to Bedford so close to Christmas, but Christine is absolutely miserable. We are to be wed in two weeks and she is stressed beyond belief." Doctor Charter nodded inquisitively at Erik's word as they made their way through the vast house. Raoul wondered what Erik did for a living to have such a lavish lifestyle.

"Has she healed well? Any swelling or yellow or black spots?" Erik shook his head, leading them down a narrow hall. "Can she walk?"

"She can walk from room to room and down the staircase. Her back cannot handle pulling herself up the staircase. I have to carry her and she refuses to use the cane. She has cursed it on many occasions. She goes to physical therapy three times a week and takes vitamins as well. It is the stress on her back that prevents her from walking far distances." Doctor Charted nodded again, making a proper diagnoses in his head as they kept walking. "Whenever I bathe her, she cries out in pain whenever I touch it. I try to be as gentle as I can."

"Are you two sexually active?" Erik almost spit.

"N-No. We are not." Doctor Charter looked surprised, nodding and mentally taking a note of Erik's confession.

"Are you not sexually active, because of her back or did you or she have any pre-existing conditions?" Erik coughed uncomfortably, scratching his nose.

"No, we have decided to wait until, um, we are husband and wife." Erik rarely said, 'um.' Blinking away the thought, Doctor Charted nodded as Erik knocked on the door. "Let me make sure she is decent." Erik looked inside the room, Christine awake and ready for Doctor Charter. "She is ready. May I come in, sir? I _hate_ leaving her alone."

"Oh, of course!" Erik followed Doctor Charter in, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. "Good morning, Christine! How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, just a bit sore." She shrugged her shoulders, shaking his hand. She smiled at the doctor, remembering how handsome he was. He did not wear his white coat. He only fashioned a nice gray suit and black overcoat.

"How are you thighs?" He asked, taking her vitals.

"Completely healed! They don't hurt one bit, Doc." He smiled happily, looking toward Erik. "It's my back that kills me."

"I'll need you to stand for a second, to check your back. Erik, do you think you could support her, so she's not in so much pain?" Erik rushed to her side, throwing her arm over his body. "You ok, Christine?" She nodded, wincing at his touch. He was not as gentle as Erik, yet his touch was new, exhilarating. "I'm going to press very tenderly, alright?" Erik looked behind him, his worried eyes practically popping out of his head. "Does this hurt?" She shook her head, looking at Erik. "And this?"

"No." She answered more tersely as he neared her spinal cord.

"This?" Doctor Charter asked, crouching down examining her scars.

"No, Doc." She grumbled. Finally, he had hit the jackpot. He had his suspicions as Erik was explaining her conditions over the phone, moreover in person. He needed to be sure in person with a proper diagnosis.

"Christine, does this-"

"OW! GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" He kept pressing the same spot as she squirmed, crying in pain. "DOCTOR, GET OFF OF ME, THAT HURTS!" He pressed harder, trying to feel the misaligned disk in her cord, trying to pinpoint a number, but Erik moved to swiftly and she was in his arms, cradled like a baby.

"Okay, that is it, you are hurting my fiancée!" Erik shouted, scooping Christine into his arms. She burrowed her face into his chest, trembling in pain. She curled up against his body, her sobs filling the room. "What the hell was that about? She tells you to stop and you stop!" Erik was enraged. He set Christine down on the bed, covering her with the blankets. "_Vous êtes bien... C'est fini... Je suis ici..." _Placing a kiss against her temple, she flinched into the blankets, her weeping incessant as he turned towards the doctor, his fists balled and his eyes narrowed.

"No, it is not over! Not everything is okay! She has a herniated disk and will need surgery, Monsieur. Do not try to seduce her with the French language. This is a serious problem." His hazel eyes filled with worry as she saw Christine turn around, glancing up at Erik. "I'm sorry I had to be so rough with you, Christine. If you can make it down the isle, we can schedule the surgery for after the first of the year. Doctor Benson performs that surgery and I'm sure she would be happy to walk you through it. I will be helping Christine through post-operation." Erik's eyes fumed with rage. He grabbed Raoul by the collar, slamming him against the dresser.

"You mean to tell me that your _genius_ doctors could not figure out that she had a herniated disk for THREE months?! She has been suffering for THREE months! Mon dieu, I think I have had just a heart attack, but I do not think you would know that, maybe I should come back in three months to get a diagnosis!" Erik pushed Raoul out the bedroom door in disgust, shoving him out in the hallway.

"What was that all about? I heard shouting!" Meg appeared in the hallway, running towards the doctor. "Are you alright?" Raoul nodded, quiet as he stood up to his feet.

"Do you know the way out of this place?" Meg smiled, holding out her hand.

"I'm Meg." He shook her hand, delighted to see a friendly face.

"Doctor Charter, but please call me Raoul. I am sorry if we woke you. I just finished with Christine. She has a herniated disk. She will need surgery after the first of the year." Meg gasped, shaking her head. "I don't know how we missed it... I feel horribly... Erik was right to shove me out the door..." Meg sighed, leading him thought the narrow hallways. "We were so focused on her third degree burns... Anyway, are you excited for her wedding?" Meg shrugged, gesturing for Raoul to enter the narrow staircase first.

"I am excited that her son will finally have a father. She would do anything for her son. Have you met him before?" Her eyes lit up, pausing in the foyer. "Do you want to? He loves meeting new people. He is in the den, playing with Legos. I do warn you, he is deaf. I can interpret for you, though." Raoul nodded excitedly, he had never met a deaf person before. Meg clapped in happiness, leading Raoul to the den. Flipping the light on, Meg waited for the door to open with the doctor by her side.

"What does the light do?" He asked, curious as to why she did not knock.

"It signals that there is someone at the door. He is deaf, he can't hear someone knocking." Soon, the door opened and the blond head of hair appeared at the door. "Hi, Parker!" She waved. "This is Doctor Raoul. He is your mom's doctor." She spoke, explaining to Parker simultaneously. Parker smiled, welcoming them into his playroom.

As he signed, Meg spoke.

"Hi, Doctor Raoul. I'm Parker, Christine's son." Parker walked over to the table, pulling out a chair for Meg. "Do you want to play with me?" Meg agreed, gesturing for Raoul to sit. "Legos are my favorite." Raoul smiled in wonderment, the boy working diligently paying no attention Meg anymore.

"Parker, why don't you explain to Raoul what you want to be when you grow up like your mom?" Meg asked Parker. Parker paused, glancing at Raoul. Parker noticed that Raoul forgot a button on his shirt, probably in a hurry this morning. He spilled a bit of coffee on his tie and he has a mole under his left eye.

"I want to be a doctor to other deaf children, Doctor Raoul." Parker noticed that Raoul had a scar on his hand, he wondered if he got it while being a doctor. "Do you know any other deaf children?"

Raoul looked to Meg, not sure of how this process worked. "I..." He began.

"Speak and whatever you speak, I will sign and speak at the same time." She explained to both the doctor and child with an endearing smile. Raoul coughed, nervous more than anything. With a blink, he licked his lips and began.

"I... I have not. You are the first deaf child I have met."

"No, you are the first deaf child I have met." Meg repeated, signing the sentence back to Parker. Nodding along, Parker finally understood a new emotion. Nervousness.

* * *

The next week was long, arduous as Erik tried to make many phone calls to doctors in New York, trying to contact Doctor Benson. When he finally reached her, she was appalled that Doctor Charted missed that on her x-Ray. She agreed to perform surgery on Christine on January 5th, reassuring Erik that the recovery process would only take two weeks. Erik only worried more. Patty instructed Erik that Christine was to be on bed rest, except for the day of her wedding. She did not want to aggravate the herniated disk anymore than it had already been irritated. Christine was nervous when she heard she was going to have surgery on her spinal cord. She feared paralysis, as a normal person would. More so, she just wished she could walk like a normal person. When Erik explained the situation to Christine's son, Parker seemed to understand that his mother was hurt and needed an operation to fix it. Christine, Erik, and Meg all agreed that with one week until the wedding, it was time to finally tell Parker why he has been staying with Erik and why the ring on his mother's finger was so expensive. They just hoped he would understand.

"He's been ignoring you, too?" Christine asked, laid out on the couch in the sitting room. Meg nodded, brushing her short blonde hair.

"Rightfully so, I mean, we did hide it from him for three months. He just learned that his mom is getting married and he'll be moving in with some guy he barely knows." Meg mumbled, completely devoid of Christine's emotionally response to her son's outcry.

Really, Christine did not know what to expect. Parker just sat there and all of a sudden, he began smashing his Legos. He was rampant, angry. Christine never had seen Parker angry. She tried asking him why he was angry, but he just kept throwing things, ransacking the den. Finally, he calmed down and asked his mother and Aunt Meg to leave him in peace. Later that day, Erik attempted to talk to him. He had opened up to Erik more, seeing that he was more comfortable with him. Erik asked him if he was okay with the situation and Parker did not have an answer. Erik told him that he did not expect him to particularly _like_ the situation, but wished that he learned to _understand_ and the situation as time goes by. It was all about learning.

"Wow, Meg... That sounds _vaguely_ familiar..." Christine gritted through her teeth.

"Jesus, Christine, are you never going to let that go? You're marrying a millionaire, bachelor, composer, with a great body! You live in a fucking château and after your surgery, you'll be moving to a penthouse! Jesus, you need to let it go! I made a mistake, but Cameron has called more times in the last three months, than he has in the last five years! He even offered to visit. You can't tell me that this whole situation hasn't been worth it, Chris." Meg rolled her eyes, leaning back on the chair. Christine was fuming. Standing up in severe pain, she meekly walked over to the blonde girl. Her eyes were filled with fury and her breathing was erratic. "Chris, sit down... You're going to injure yourself." Meg's voice was soft, she always cared about Christine.

"JUST SHUT UP, MEG. Do you think I am _that_ shallow? Do you think I agreed to marry Erik for his money, his damn château, or his damn body that I have never seen?" Meg remained silent, glancing at the strain in Christine's eyes. "DO YOU?" She repeated.

"N-No." Meg squeaked, her eyes diverting to the floor.

"Okay, I will give you Cameron on a silver platter. It is fabulous that he has called me to ask about his son. It's like my own ray of sunshine when he offers to come visit me, but nothing will make up for the years of abuse he left me with, Meg. He is a pig, he is an idiotic demon. He doesn't love his son. He doesn't love me. He rather get drunk, do some body shots, and call it a day, than take a measly hour out of his day to visit his son at his art class. Do not tell me what is worth something and what isn't. You know nothing. You... You're not the same Meg, you make me sick." Christine shook her head, turning around heading for the door. She would make a statement walking out the door, she did not care how badly it hurt. With a deep breath, she ignored the shooting pain in her back and took the necessary steps to make it out in the cold hallway, leaving Meg behind her.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Family Plan**

* * *

Christine was thankful that Doctor Charter prescribed a low dose of Vicodin to her to ease the pain of her herniated disk, at least until the first of the year. With the low dosage of medication, she was able to walk short distances (and by short, she meant from her room to Erik's den). Erik continually carried her up and down the stairs, never complaining about anything. Parker finally stopped ignoring Christine when he noticed that Meg had left the château. Christine had tried her best to explain to her son that Meg was homesick and that her apartment was much to closer to her work than the château was. Parker seemed to comply, the plans of the wedding overtaking his mind instead. The wedding was approaching and Christine was elated to see that she will be able to _actually _walk herself down the isle. Though, her depression came over her two days before the wedding and Erik seemed to notice a significant change in her spirits. She had given into his offer to have a custom dress made and everything seemed to be running smoothly, as planned. Erik originally thought it was, because Meg had moved out, but there was something of a much greater weight, falling upon her shoulders. He was never one cross into someone's personal boundaries, he believed that a person should deal with their demons one their own and if they needed someone's help, they would seek it out, properly. Yet, every time he looked at Christine, something forceful tugged at his heart, something he had never felt before he met Christine. Her eyes were conflicted, her heart torn in pieces and Erik could not help, but be drawn to her.

"Miss Christine, your future husband has requested that I bathe you tonight. He wants to stick to the tradition of not seeing the bride before the wedding, Miss Christine." Maxine's soft voice beckoned to Christine as she sat on her bed, reading a book that Erik had given her. It was split into two. Half of the page was in French and half of the page was in English.

"Oh, well... I... Alright, then. Could you help me to the bath, then?" Christine rested the book down on her bedside table as Maxine held out her hand, helping Christine to her feet. Once they reached the bathroom, Christine stripped herself of her nightgown. The bath water was hotter than her original baths, which she quite enjoyed. The warm water, encapsulating her body in a rush of tingling sensations. "Maxine... Are you married?"

"Yes, ma'am. Why do you ask?" Maxine rolled up the sleeves of her sweater, bringing the stool to the edge of the tub. Grabbing a washcloth, she dipped it into the water and began to wash Christine's shoulders.

"Did you have a wedding?" Christine's voice was somber, her eyes glassy as she stirred the water with her index finger.

"A very small one, indeed. Only my father and Gerald's mother were in attendance. I remember my father walking me down the isle. I saw Gerald waiting for me at the top of the isle and the butterflies in my stomach, Miss Christine... You'll never forget such a feeling." Maxine grabbed the bar of soap, running it over Christine's shoulders and back. "Why do you ask, Miss Christine?"

"Maxine... I fear that I won't have those butterflies tomorrow. I mean, my father won't be there to walk me down the isle... I don't even know if Meg will show up tomorrow. I just... this is not how I imagined my wedding." Maxine sighed, moving to her knees. Her gentle fingers caressed Christine's cheek, turning her face to hers. "Maxine... I just wish my mother were here to see me get married..." Maxine pressed a kiss to Christine's forehead, not caring how forward she was being. Wiping Christine's tears, Maxine smiled and gave Christine a look of trust.

"My dear Christine, your mother will be there tomorrow, right here, right next to your father." Maxine pointed to Christine's heart with a warm smile. "If Meg truly loves you, she will come. You speak as if you will be completely alone, mi hija. Did you forget about your son? What about Mr. Erik? Miss Christine, you are forgetting that you will have a new family tomorrow. You will not be alone. Mr. Erik loves you very much, mi hija - even if he does not know it. Men don't always know the feeling of love, unless we illuminate it with neon signs, plaster it on the television screens, and have a naked lady holding up a poster that says. 'YOU ARE IN LOVE,' my dear." Maxine smiled widely, earning a laugh from Christine. "Hija, you will never be alone." Christine suddenly got an idea. With an endearing smile, she grabbed Maxine's hands and smiled widely.

"Maxine... I have a favor to ask of you. I know it is a bit odd, seeing that I am naked..." Christine blushed, looking down at her naked body, shrugging off the thought. "...But, would you do me the honor of walking me down the isle tomorrow?"

* * *

_Before The Wedding _

Erik arose before dawn, like always. He showered, shaved, changing into a pair of loose jeans and a black t-shirt. Letting the cool air hit his face, he sat on the edge of the bed, glancing down at the wedding bands. He could not wrap the thought of _marriage _around his mind. It seemed surreal that almost four months ago, she was a faceless girl on the phone. It seemed euphoric almost, that today he was to be married to Christine. They had become more comfortable with each other, exchanging romantic glances every so often. She even would give him quick pecks on the cheek before she would turn in for the night. He felt the physical spark between them, he felt protective over her. His emotional connect was not yet registered. It was harder to learn to love her than he thought it would be. Every time he made an effort to talk to her about her past, she shoved him away, she complained about her back. He did not know if she truly did not want to talk about it or she just did not want to talk about it with _him. _He had opened up to her about his past marriage on multiple occasions, could she not make the same effort? Is this how the marriage was going to go? No, he was not going to let it happen like this. If she was going to become a formidable wall, he would play her game as well. In disbelief, he closed the box of wedding bands and shook his head. Soon distracted, there was a knock on the door.

"Meg? What are you doing here? Should not you be with Christine?" Meg shrugged, her expression dispassionate. "Please come in, Meg..." He replied, wary to her disposition.

"Thanks, Erik." She entered his room, looking around the quarters in curiosity. "Are you excited for the wedding today?"

"I am. Christine is a good woman." His tone was honest as he stood confused, the blonde girl roaming his room.

"Why don't you guys share a room? Isn't it weird that you guys are getting married and don't share a bed?" Meg inquired, turning towards the unmasked man. She did not seem to mind.

"No, I do not think it is strange. It is traditional. After tonight, we will be moving to the penthouse and there, we will share a room." She nodded her head slowly, walking closer to the man. Clearing his throat, he looked at the woman with caution. "Meg, what are you doing in here? Why are you not with Christine? She could probably use the assistance getting ready."

"I wanted to see you first, is that a crime, _Monsieur?_" Her hands landed on his chest, her nails lightly dragging down his chest to his stomach. "Has she ever touched you, Erik?" His back stiffened, looking down at the woman. "It seems like she hasn't... You know..." She purred, her hands shifting down to his belt loops, pulling his hips closer to hers. "You aren't married yet..." Her lips were centimeters from his, he could feel her breath on his throat as he swallowed hard. His mind was clouded, his earthly temptations trying to win him over, his demons screaming at him. "Christine is probably busy getting ready..." Her hands lifted up his t-shirt, her manicured nails digging into his heated flesh. "The wedding isn't for another two hours... Say, I wonder what a man with your kind of résumé can accomplish in two hours..." Her voice was fascinating, enticing, as she rolled the words of her tongue, but there was something about her that he did not enjoy. Erik soon snapped out of his trance, remembering that he was to be a husband in two hours. Grabbing the blonde girl by the shoulders, he picked her up with ease and took her to the door. "What? What are you doing!?" She shrieked, kicking her legs.

"If you speak a word of this to _anybody_, especially Christine, I will make sure you will never see employment again. Go now and do not show up at our wedding. Goodbye." Erik slammed the door in her face, immediately running to the bathroom. He leaned over the sink, splashing cold water in his face. "I'm so sorry, Christine..." He pleaded silently to himself. Shaking his head again, he grabbed a towel and dabbed his face once more. Walking out to his room, he found The Persian in his suit, ready for the wedding. "I do not remember hearing you knock." Erik seethed.

"You are still in your jeans? My brother, you are to be wed in less than two hours." Nadir took Erik's tuxedo out of the black bag, hanging it on the hook on the wall. "Who was the blonde girl who ran out of room in tears?"

"She was Christine's best friend. She came in here and tried to... Evaluate what I could accomplish in two hours. I told her to leave Christine and me alone, for good. She has been nothing, but stressful to Christine." Erik shrugged, pulling off his jeans and t-shirt. Nadir handed him his black dress shirt, nodding along to his story. "I do not know how to tell Christine that she will not have a maid of honor." Erik began to button up his shirt, his thoughts confused.

"If Miss Giry was truly her friend, she would not have done what she did, Erik." The unmasked man shrugged his shoulders, taking the white silk tie from Nadir. "I will do that for you. What kind of tie would like today, Erik?" Erik pondered, going through his mental dictionary of special ways a tie could be knotted.

"Could you do The Trinity knot? I think it is fitting for today's event." Nadir smiled, beginning to knot the silk tie. "Nadir, I want to thank you for all your help. I know we fight, but you are truly my brother."

"I am sorry for what I said to you three weeks ago. I had no right. Your marriage to Christine, is your decision. I believe you will be happy with whatever you choose. She is a good woman for you, Erik. Love will come for the two of you and soon, the boy will learn to love you, as a son loves his father. Do not worry." Nadir stepped away, satisfied with his work. Handing Erik his white vest, Erik smiled in utter gratitude, putting the vest on in discomfort. "It looks a bit small."

"It will suffice. I will take it off once the ceremony is done, my friend. Hand me the slacks, my brother." Nadir complied, handing the black slacks to Erik. Holding the belt, Nadir waited for Erik.

"This is my, 'Best Man,' gift to you, Erik. If you look at the buckle, I designed a family emblem, for you and your new family. All your personal stationery will be sealed with this emblem, insignia if you will. Shahla helped me with it, truth be told." Erik looked at the buckle in complete awe, he never knew Nadir has an artistic bone in his body. "You taught me calligraphy and I thank Allah every day for it." Erik held out his hand, pulling in Nadir for a tight hug. "My brother, you will do great things for your family. Alora is proud of you."

Down the hallway, Christine was in her bedroom with Parker and Maxine. Her dress was made of silk, just as Erik suggested. It was a loose fitting gown, but elegant in every way. The straps came off the shoulders to a sweetheart neckline. Fitting snugly around the hips, it flowed out beautifully down to the floor. She had Maxine style her hair up in a side bun, her mother's white lily hair pin stuck in the mess of curls. The white Vera Wang sandals were Meg's, 'Something New,' gift with an apology letter attach to them. Christine knew that they needed space, but she was saddened by the thought of Meg's absence on her wedding day.

"How do I look Parker?" Christine asked her son. Parker fashion a gray suit that matched Nadir, his boutonniere, a red rose. He beamed up at his mother, unable to sign as he adored his mother in complete veneration. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, Christine turned around to face her vanity. To put the finishing touches on her makeup, Christine added a light brown eyeshadow and some rouge to her cheeks. With a clear lipgloss, Christine stood to her feet and walked towards the mirror. She looked just like her mother.

With a tiny knock on the door, Maxine went to the door, seeing Nadir in the door way. Returning to Christine, Maxine smiled softly and whispered a small prayer.

"Mr. Erik just left to the church, Miss Christine. We are leaving in ten minutes, mi hija."

* * *

_The Wedding _

St. Paul's Catholic Church was small, just what Christine wished for her wedding. Adorned with white roses, she awaited the wedding in one of the back rooms. Her heart was beating unbelievably fast as she looked at Parker playing with his Legos. Christine took out her book to distract herself, her nerves going haywire. She finally realized what Maxine was talking about. She had felt the butterflies since the moment she woke up that morning. She felt her mother's presence, her father's too. With her adrenaline running, she felt surprisingly at peace with the situation. Maybe it was the small dose of Vicodin she took. She wondered what Erik was doing. Was he nervous, too? Knowing Erik, he was probably composing a Russian opera with an Italian dialect to calm his nerves. She smiled at the thought of Erik waiting for her at the altar. She cared for him deeply and she truly wished the best for them as they moved into marriage. He took such good care of her through the recovery process, she knew she would never be able to repay him, but she knew that he would never accept any payment she would have to offer him. He was kind, he was smart, he was caring. He knew how to prepare her favorite meal, he knew how to play her favorite song on the piano when she was in pain, he knew how to make Parker laugh - something she would give her life to hear. Yet, he knew nothing about her. Every time he asked, she would push him away, afraid that it would scare him off or haunt her in her dreams. He never pushed too hard. He would leave it at whatever it was. Surely he had to be frustrated, but he never admitted it. She was truly to get stuck with someone like Erik. She could not imagine getting stuck with anyone else.

"Mi hija, they are ready for you. Are you ready for them?" Christine stood to her feet, bouquet of red roses in hand. Her eyes widened as she grabbed Parker's hand. Maxine approached the nervous girl, placing her hand on her cheek. "I will be there every step of the way. We can go as slow as you need to. Erik has made a special arrangement with Father Brady. The ceremony will be short. You will not be standing long. Hija, you can do this." Christine nodded, smiling with a jittery hand. She handed Maxine her bouquet and closed her eyes. Bending down to her son, she kissed his forehead.

"We will finally have a family, Parker. Are you ready?" Christine asked her son, her expression tender, timid. Parker leaned in, kissing his mother's cheek, an action he rarely did. Lifting his hand, he gestured the one word that was all Christine needed to proceed.

"Yes."

* * *

Christine took a deep breath as the doors to the sanctuary opened, on arm wound around Maxine, their fingers intertwined. In front of them, Parker took his first few strides, leading the ceremony as the string quartet began the music. Erik's eyes gleamed towards his future son, strutting down the isle with a giant smile. '_When then visions around you, bring tears to your eyes and all that surrounds you, are secrets and lies,' _Parker took his time, taking in his surroundings, making note of the flowers and candles. He noticed that Erik's cuff-links had his initials engraved on them. _'I'll be your strength, I'll give you hope, keeping your faith when it's gone. The one you should call, was standing there all along.' _Parker reached the middle of the isle way, his hands feeling the pews, each scratch, each petal of the rose that adorned the pews. He smiled at Erik who stood awaiting his bride. As Parker neared Erik, he noticed that Erik wore a different colored mask, a black one. It finally registered with Parker. He was not born with the mask on, he hid something beneath it. Parker smiled at the masked man, hoping that one day Erik would learn to trust him enough to show him what lay beneath the mask.

As the doors opened again, Christine stood up again, only to have Maxine shake her head. Nadir squeezed Christine's hand as he hooked arms with Christine's good friend, Grace. The doors shut and Christine grew anxious, wondering what was happening in front of those doors. "We are next, do not worry." Maxine reassured. Grace had been Christine's NICU nurse and since then, they have been inseparable. Grace had black hair, her Asian skin tan, glowing in the candlelight as Nadir and Grace made their way down the isle. _'And I will take you in my arms and hold you right where you belong, 'til the day my life is through. This is promise you.' _Grace smiled widely at Erik, remembering when she was introduced to him. She had dropped some medication off for Parker and Erik just so opened the door. She was pleased to hear that Christine moved on from her ex and she hoped that her recovery was going smoothly. Nadir nodded in Erik's direction, walking to the beat of the music. _'I've loved you forever, in lifetimes before and I promise you never will you hurt anymore.' _Parker had seemed to remember the Asian woman as he grinned, waving to her. She waved back, politely. Erik was growing antsy, shifting in his spot. _'I give you my world, I give you my heart. This is a battle we've won and with this vow, forever has now begun.' _Soon, the doors opened and Erik knew, this was it. She was it.

The white silk gown turned the corner before Christine did, Erik's heart beginning to pound in the confines of his chest. His eyes trailed up the silk gown, landing on the woman that stood underneath the door frame, a vision in white. Erik was sure he was not breathing. He had thought the dress was going to be loose fitting, yet her curves were accentuated perfectly, the silk falling in all the right places. Her shoulders were bare, her father's pendant around her neck, glittering in the candlelight. Her curls were held in a bun to the side, her mother's hair pin woven into her thick curls. She was an angel, he thought. She smiled gracefully, her smile illuminating his nerves, his adrenaline racing once more. As she took her first steps, Maxine beside her to guide her, the song began once more. _'Just close your eyes each loving day and know this feeling won't go away. 'Til the day my life is through, this I promise you.' _She walked painstakingly slow, her lips teasing Erik as she took her time taking in the beautiful scenery. She was wrong. This is exactly how she imagined her wedding. _'Over and over I thought when I hear you call, without you in my life baby, I just wouldn't be living at all.' _His heart was unprepared for the canvas she was painting with her curves, her jaw, her piercing green eyes. He had never seen her dressed up before. No, he was not shallow. He was amazed that she was walking with such ease, no pain seemed to be apparent. That was the true miracle. _'And I will take you in my arms and hold you right where you belong. 'Til the day my life is through, this I promise you.' __  
_

Erik took her hand, helping her up the steps, her touch electrifying. He smiled at her, never peeling his eyes away from her. She exhaled shakily, her eyes on his black mask. There was something about his black mask that pulled her in, that made her never want to let go of his hand. He understood, never releasing her hand. They exchanged glances, Erik giving her a wink as Father Brady began the ceremony, nodding in response.

"Friends, family... We are gathered here in the presence of God to join this man, Erik Girard Deslow and this woman, Christine Austen Daaé." Erik made a mental note of her middle name. "If anyone is to have any objections, please speak now or may your peace be held with God." Silence. Father Brady nodded, proceeding with the ceremony. "In the presence of God, your friends and your family, you are willing to exchange vows, promising to one another your bonds of love. Erik, you may go first." Erik nodded, clearing his throat, taking a deep breath. His eyes searched Christine, she had never seen him this nervous. He began with a smile, a smile she could never forget.

"I can speak ten languages, more or less... I can compose an opera, give me a day or two. I can sing, probably dance if I took a lesson or two. I run a company that makes international trades for millions of dollars, every day. I have traveled the world and seen the seven wonders... Yet, I have no skills when it comes to knowing how to love. Before I knew you, I was lost. I was a sheep without its flock, I was a student without it class... I was a man without a brain. You could probably argue that I still do not have a brain. Christine, I never thought I would recover from the things I have endured, but you have taught me endurance. You have a beautiful son and you, you have given me purpose again, a purpose I once lost. My skills to know how to love are slowly resurfacing and all my gratitude is owed to you. I vow to love you, to protect you, this family, with everything I am and everything I can give you. Christine, your heart has shown me that love can be learned again and I cannot be more thankful for that." Erik put his hands down, turning towards Parker who wiped his tears away. Maxine took Parker in her arms, wiping the tears that glistened down her own cheeks. Christine placed her hand on Erik's cheek, smiling softly as she held back tears.

"I... I don't how I'm going to get through my vows..." With an airy laugh, she continued. "I did not know what I agreed to when I did, but now that I stand before you, I realize that what I agreed to was the best thing that could have happened to my son and myself. You are merciful, you are talented, you are kind, and you are loving. None of those things are qualities I deserve, yet you still choose to care for me unconditionally. You make my son laugh, a sound I would die ten times over to hear. You believe that to the world you are ugly, that behind the mask, you are not worthy to be seen to a human's eye... I stand before you now with my heart exposed..." Christine reached up, her hands trembling. Reach for his black mask, she lifted it up and over his head. The cool air hit his face as he inhaled sharply, the eyes of the guests, peering into his soul. She handed the mask to Nadir, placing her shaking palm on Erik's torn cheek, tracing the outline of his scars, his lacerations. "I do not wish for you to hide behind this when you're with me. Erik, you speak of what I have endured, yet your scars are a testament to your unbelievably inspiring story. You've shown me acceptance and unequivocal love, even if you haven't yet realized it. I want you to know right here, right now with all these witnesses... That I vow to love you, to protect you, just as you have vowed the same to me. I can't ever repay you for everything you have done for me and my son, but I think I can start by telling you that learning to love you, started a long time ago... and I never intend to stop." She smiled with quivering lips, his hand capturing hers as she turned away from her son's watery gaze. "I hope I can make your Alora proud and I hope I can be a deserving mother to your Paradís." Christine nodded, her face sincere as Father Brady witnessed their proclamations of love.

"The rings, then." Father Brady announced. "Repeat after me, Erik." Father Brady cleared his throat and began. "With this ring," '_With this ring' _"I, Erik Girard Deslow, vow to give to you everything I am, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts us, as God as my witness." '_I, Erik Girard Deslow, vow to give you everything I am, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts us, as God as my witness.' _Erik slid the ring on Christine's finger, the warmth of his touch sending chills down her spine. "Christine, you will repeat after me." He gestured towards Christine and began slowly. "With this ring," _'With this ring'_ "I, Christine Austen Daaé, vow to give you everything I am, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts us, as God as my witness." _'I, Christine Austen Daaé, vow to give you everything I am, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, until death parts us, as God as my witness.' _Father Brady smiled as Christine slid the band onto Erik's finger. Connecting their hands, Father Brady crossed the two in Holy Matrimony and took a final breath. "By the power invested in me and the power that Christ now holds over you, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Erik, you may kiss your bride." _  
_

Erik paused, his heart darting from corner to corner in the confinements of his body. Cupping her face, she smiled softly as he leaned down, their faces inches apart. Her stomach churned, the butterflies swarming in an infinite cycle of madness in the pit of her stomach. His lips were like velvet, moving easily with hers as he rested his hand between her shoulders blades. She felt her body melt into the heat of his body, her arms wrapping around his neck in an automatic response to his fiery touch. Pulling away, her face felt flushed as he stroked her cheeks with the back of his fingers, his golden eyes twinkling in the candlelit sanctuary. His arm hooked with hers, their fingers intertwining. It all seemed too real as he stared in reverence of his new _wife. _He had never felt such a feeling with her fingers locked with his. With a peck on her flustered cheek, Father Brady smiled and stepped forward.

"For the first time ever, I would like to present to you in the presence of God, Mr. and Mrs. Erik Deslow."

Erik took Christine gently, stepping down from the altar, as she took Parker's hand. Parker could not help, but grin at this joyous celebration. He was laughing and that was enough for Christine to tear up as she ascended up the isle with her new family. Erik remained silent, his main goal to get Christine seated in the car and off to the château for the tiny reception. He knew her back must have been hurting. Once outside the sanctuary, he turned to Christine, tears gathering in the peripherals of her eyes. He took her face in hers, so gently it was as if she was being graced by an angel. Wiping the tears with his thumbs, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin.

"My wife." He whispered against the warmth of her skin. She smiled against his chest, knowing that they had a long road ahead. Grabbing his hand, she made their way to the car outside, only to be stopped by Parker. Erik was worried that something was wrong. Bending down to his eye level, he was thoroughly surprised. Parker, with tears in his eyes and smile on his face, lifted his hand to his forehead and Erik knew immediately of his actions. Erik smiled softly, holding back tears. Christine covered her mouth, her emotions taking over as she watched her son, for the first time, acknowledge that he was not alone in the world. For the first time, Parker took notice that he was neither abandoned, nor was he ever going to be left again. No, Parker finally realized that it just took a bit of waiting to finally receive what he deserved, after so many years of being alone.

"Dad."


	10. Chapter 10

**Take A Picture, It Lasts Longer **

_Firefly_

* * *

The reception was held in the ballroom of the château, tables covered in ivory linens, with red rose center pieces, gracing the hardwood floor. The chairs were of simple white wood, a black bow tied on the back. An archway with a simple three-tiered cake beneath it sat in corner, a simply red fondant bow on top, the accent swirls in black. A rectangular table was sat at the back of the table for the wedding party, the tables reserved for all the house workers and any guests that were not able to weather the snow in such short notice. White Christmas lights dawned the walls, creating a magical ambiance, upon Christine's touch. Candles adorned the room, scattered about for a romantic mood, setting it just right for the evening. All guests were asked to wear black and upon entrance, the women were given a red rose tied with a black ribbon, and the men were given a red rose boutonniere, a black ribbon accent. Erik had moved his pipe organ to the right side, where the stringed quartet would play. Christine and Erik spoke of a first dance and she _assured _him that she would want a first dance, but he did not want her to strain herself. She wondered if Erik knew how to dance, if that was one of his many skills. She had memories of dancing on her father's feet to The Temptation's _My Girl. _Hardly, a song to learn how to slow dance to, but she knew enough to keep a steady hand. In compromise, she would have a first dance, but she would sit for the remaining of the reception. Erik would bring the reception guests to her, as opposed to her making the rounds to each table. Secretly, Christine hoped that Meg would make an appearance and secretly, Erik did too.

The wedding guests stood to their feet as the string quartet began to play Bach's _Air _on G string, the doors to the ballroom opening ceremoniously to present a smiling Parker. He waved at the guests, beginning his promenading about the ballroom. It was traditional in a family in Erik's esteem to promenade around the room before taking their seats. Parker strutted around the room, waving happily, blowing kisses to the familiar faces. Soon, Grace and Nadir followed after him. They walked more briskly, smiling just as warmly to the guests in the ballroom. Parker waved to Nadir, gesturing that he wanted Nadir to sit next to him. Nadir obliged with honor.

"Meg, you decided to come." Christine spoke quietly, the blonde girl looking down, ashamed. Meg did not want to make eye contact with Erik, for she feared that he might kick her out again. To her surprise, the welcoming arms of Christine wrapped around her body in a tight embrace. "I couldn't imagine this day without you." Meg smiled, turning to apologize to Erik. He raised his hand in protest, his eyes pleading on Christine's behalf.

"It is a day for celebration. We are glad you could join us, Miss Giry. Your timing is impeccable, now Maxine has someone promenade with, if you may." Meg nodded, knowing that she was not forgiven, but understood. Hooking arms with Maxine, she entered the ballroom, her black bride's maid dress swishing in the wind. Erik turned to his new bride, not a negative thought in his head.

"Are you quite ready, Mrs. Deslow?" Erik purred into Christine's ears, his lips tickling the shell of her ear. His grip was tight, assuring her that she would not fall.

"_Por vous, rien_."

The doors opened once more as Christine took a final breath in, squeezing Erik's hand tightly in hers. There were about fifty guests, enough to start a mob. She glanced around, her eyes landing on the gorgeous Doctor Raoul Charter. _Mon Dieu. _This was going to be a long night. Erik walked slowly, making sure Christine was comfortable. Her silk gown flowed with grace beneath her as the newlyweds turned the first corner with ease. Truly, she was not disturbed with the thought of being married, she enjoyed the thought of being someone's wife - Erik's wife. Christine noticed a blonde woman with a microphone standing near the string quartet. With curious eyes, Christine's mouth fell agape as the woman began to sing a harmonious melody new to her ears._'I fell in love next to you, burning fires in this room. It just fits, light and smooth, like my feet in my shoes.' _Erik glanced down at Christine and recognized that tears began to form in her eyes. Taking her to the middle of the floor, he gathered her in his chest and exhaled softly.

"Shall we dance, my dear?" He brought his left hand to the crevice of her shoulder blades, his right hand clutching her left as if she was a precious gem - and in his eyes, she was. Her head rested gently on his chest as they rocked back on forth on the dance floor with not a care in the world.

'_Little one, lay with me. Sew your heart to my sleeve. We'll stay quiet, underneath shooting stars, if it helps you sleep.' _

Erik took the liberty in spinning Christine around, light as a feather, catching her again in his chest. She let out a soft giggle, like music to his ears. _'And hold me tight, don't let me breathe, feeling like you won't believe.' _Christine did not believe that she could be feeling this happy. No, this was a fake wedding. An arranged marriage for a man she did not know a thing about! He was married before and clearly he still loved his late wife. Yet... She felt so secure in his embrace as he whispered the lyrics of this unknown song, as he rocked back and forth with her to the beat of the violin. She did not understand her emotions, but maybe she did not want to understand them. Erik smiled down at her, blinking softly before he parted his lips, bringing her face away from his, his eyes mysterious as she awaited her new found fate.

'_There's a firefly loose tonight, better catch it, before it burns this place down. And I'd lie if I don't feel so right..._' He exhaled a shaky breath as he brought her lips to his, barely brushing her plush lips to his swollen, misshapen lips. It was exhilarating, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as he pulled away, the heat of his breath emanating down her throat. '_But the world looks so much better through your eyes...' _Her eyes remained shut as the emptiness filled her, the exceeding desire tugging at her chest as she longed to feel his touch upon her once more, his voice lingering in the back of her mind. He pulled her head back into her chest, swaying the music again and suddenly, he felt at peace for the first time in a long time.

_'Teach my skin those new tricks, warm me up with those lips. Heart to heart, melt me down... It's too cold in this town.' _As her eyes fluttered opened, she soon came to realized that the woman disappeared and he was serenading her with his velvety voice, his silky voice that had enticed her the very night that they had met. His golden eyes peered down at her as his lips moved so fluidly with the music behind him. '_Close your eyes, lean on me. Face to mouth, lips to cheek. Feeling numb in my feet... You're the one to help me... Get to sleep.' _She had done just that. With her lips against his cheek, she danced swiftly with him, pressing feathery kisses along his cheek, whispering his name among his skin. He shivered at the vibration of her voice, choking on his last word, only pressing her closer to his body, closing any space that might have been left between them. He knew in that moment, he never wanted to let her go in this or any other lifetime.

_'Only been one night of love and maybe that is not enough...' _He paused, dipped her downwards, letting out an airy laugh. Placing a kiss on her nose, he brought her back to her feet. The audience clapped, laughing at his sudden movements. They believed they were in love and slowly, the pair that moved together so fluidly on the dance floor began to believe it to, but were much too timid to admit it. She smiled in complete adoration of the man in front of her. She glanced at their interwoven fingers, his black wedding band standing out to her. Learn to love again with me. The words spoke out to her like a neon sign. You are in love. Yes. She was... She was indeed in love. She paused their dancing, wanting to get the moment just right. His expression turned worried, concerned that he hurt her, but she shook her head, reassuring him that there was no such crime. She traced his mask with her fingertips, bringing her right hand to the back of his head. With a tender smile, she arose to her tippy-toes and placed her lips on his, the warmth spreading down her spine. She could have sworn the pain of her back had disappeared. He moved immediately with her, the taste of his lips was something she never wanted to forget. He was passionate as she pulled her body towards his, like he had never been kissed. Upon their release, she breathed out the only words that she could, the only words that fell onto her trembling lips, the only words that he needed to hear to assure him that he was right where he needed to be.

"I love you."

His breathing became erratic as he took her into his arms, spinning around the room. The guests broke out into applause as the newlyweds kissed once more. Erik looked at Christine, the golden eyes brighter than never before. He grabbed her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, nodding softly. With a delicate smile, he exhaled the final words before preceding to the reception, with a happiness he could never describe, a happiness not even music could replace.

_'__There's a firefly loose tonight, b__etter catch it b__efore it burns this place down... __and I'd lie i__f I don't feel so right, b__ut the world looks better t__hrough your eyes.__'_

The reception had moved forward with through the appetizer, salade d' Epinards, and now the ensemble of guests were onto the main course of Crevettes à la Provençale, Erik's favorite meal. The conversations were lively as Christine caught a glimpse of Doctor Raoul's guests, she was taller and thin, beautiful to say the least. Christine pondered the thought of his girlfriend, which was completely inappropriate considering that she was now a married woman. As the night went on, Parker insisted that he and Erik go out for a day of fun, Erik happily obliged, but warned that he was not that fun. Erik's idea of fun was to go see an opera or go to an art exhibit, neither of which a child of Parker's liking would enjoy. All at once, the clinking of silverware against glass caught Christine's attention. Nadir stood to his feet, adjusting his vest and tie. He ventured to the middle of the room, smiling at the new couple. With a deep breath and genuine eyes, he began his Best Man Speech.

"My brother, Erik... I do not have enough words any of my dictionaries to express how elated I am for you on this joyous day." He smiled softly, putting his hands together in gratitude. "I have watched you grow into a fine businessman, an excellent musician, an intelligent connoisseur of food and wine, but none have come in comparison to what you have become today. Every day you face challenges of the trade market, a composition to be written, businesses to be run, yet you still have time to give an exceedingly warm welcome to those you love. My brother, today you have become a husband, a father. I do not believe any other person is more right for those roles, than you are. You hold the qualities of loyalty and protection, the qualities of love and acceptance, but most of all you hold the capability to know your heart... And believe me, not many men do. To know your heart is to know that the woman that sits beside you is a woman that you must protect, endure, and love overwhelmingly without a doubt. You knew that the first time you talked to her and that, is an incredible gift. My brother, today you venture into a life unknown and all I can say is thank you for all you have taught me... and may Allah bless you and your new family, for you have been given the most precious of jewels."

Nadir shook Erik's hand, bowing in adoration. With a sincere smile, Nadir kissed Christine's hand, whispering something in a foreign language that she did not understand. Meg stood to her feet, making her way to the middle of the room where Nadir had just been standing. Adjusting her dress, she cleared her throat and looked down at the ground, the room falling to a complete silence. With a shaky exhale, she raised her head and smiled apologetically once more to the masked man, earning a more than confused head turn from the new bride.

"What's going on with you two?" Christine whispered to Erik, feeling out of the loop. Erik squeezed her hand, brushing his lips against her heated cheek.

"Do not worry, it is inconsequential." He felt as though it was just that, but a part of him felt horribly for lying to her. He knew that eventually, he would have to tell her of the disgusting news. With a nod, Meg proceeded, lifting her hands, making certain she included Parker.

"I could say a lot of things about my Christine right now... I could embarrass the hell out of her, I could make her cry with one word... I could also make her very angry with one confessional..." Megan began, her eyes locked on Christine's green irises. "Or I could simply just tell everyone how amazing she is... How brave and enduring she is... No words could be put in my mouth to describe how in awe I am of my Christine. Everyday, I wake up thinking, 'How could I be more like Christine today?' For starters, I could smile more often, no matter what is hurting me. Maybe I could sing as if no one is watching, I could raise a child on my own... Making certain that he has the best life I could possibly give him with what I have... I could protect him with my own life and make sure he feels loved..." Meg paused, wiping some stray tears that left her eyes. "Maybe I could be the best friend that anyone could ask for, ever. I could stay up until three in the morning just because my friend is crying over a stupid date, even though I had work in three hours and a son to take care of the next day. I could be the most comforting person a friend could have when a tiny little four year old blonde girl lost her mother... Lost herself... You never left my side and to this day, you haven't left my side." Erik glanced at Christine, her eyes glassy. No, she was not crying, she was listening to her speech with wide eyes and an open heart. "Today, I stand here to tell you, Erik, that you have someone that will never leave your side, who will love you unconditionally... Erik, we have all made mistakes and certainly, Christine has made hers... But as you make your journey on this new path as husband and wife, I just would like you to know that I could not imagine two people more fit to be together, in the most unusual of circumstances... My best friend, my Christine... Is now yours to protect Erik and I know you will do an amazing job in doing so." Meg smiled a tremulous smile as she raised her glass in the air. "To The Deslows, because Parker too has joined you on this journey, may your new life be filled with never ending happiness, perseverance when the nights are the longest, and overwhelming and enduring love, when you believe that you are alone, because my friends... You are never alone."

The guests raised their glasses, their weeping and sniffling a testament to their happiness. Erik stood, helping Christine to her feet as they raised their glasses in unison. With a deep breath, Christine smiled at the blonde girl, knowing that she had never lost her best friend.

"To The Deslows."

* * *

The reception was going smoothly as Meg pulled Erik to formally apologize. She had been out of her mind and she did not want to ruin their wedding night. He accepted and promised to never speak of the incident again. Unfortunately, Christine caught glimpse of their meeting and wondered what they could have been talking about. As the guests approached Christine, she was given many gifts. Erik had not thought of a table for the gifts. Many of the guests were from her work place, people she had not seen in over four months. She could not help, but stand and greet them. She met some of Erik's co-workers, painfully dull if you were to ask her. Finally, she got a chance to meet with Doctor Raoul and his guest, Kyra. She was a fitness instructor at the local gym and they had met at some coffee shop one morning. They were good friends and nothing more, but Christine could not shake the feeling that they were going to go home together that night. Parker took Meg around as she interpreted for him, he was very keen on meeting as many guests as he could. Erik did not leave Christine's side as soon as he returned from his talk with Meg. His arm rested around her shoulders, his hand resting on her forearm. They had not ever been this close since the night he taught her how to sing. His touch awakened something within her that was hard to control, she just wished that it would never stop. He was kind to the guests, charming to say the least. He spoke French to some guests who did not speak English and mystified his wife, once more. Soon, the guests began to return to the dance floor, a sight for sore eyes.

"Are you enjoying your wedding, my wife?" Erik asked as he scanned the room, taking in the joyous ambiance.

"I am, thank you. I noticed that you moved your organ in here. Are you going to play it?" He shrugged his shoulder, giving a sly smile.

"I might." Suddenly, he stood to his feet, jerking Christine to the side. He bent down quickly and helped her back to a sitting position. "I am sorry, Christine. I was startled." He returned to his feet, his breath quickening in pace. Adjusting his vest, which he did not take off after the ceremony, he was eye level with a very beautiful blonde woman. Her floor length black dress had a slit that rode to her upper middle thigh, her red lips accenting her red rose. His jaw clenched at the sight of the woman, Christine beginning to feel jealous. She stood to her feet, a little wobbly from being sat down to long. Holding out her hand, she proudly introduced herself to the woman who stared at Erik's hands.

"Hello, I am Christine, the bride. Who might you be?" The woman trailed her eyes up Christine's body, finally landing on Christine's chocolate curls. With a wide smile, the woman put out her hand and immediately, Christine knew why Erik was as frozen as an ice sculpture.

"Arwen, Arwen DeDéaux. That is a lovely gown, is it custom made?" Her French accent rang throughout her English as she shook Christine's hand, clutching her purse with her other.

"Yes, it is. How did you know that your brother was getting married today?" She tilted her head, raising her eyebrow towards her brother, who shook his head.

"Ah, yes... How _did_ I know, brother?" Erik moved his hand slightly and soon one of the waiters brought over a chair for his sister, placing in front of the table. Taking a seat, she inhaled happily and leaned forward. "It's good to see you by the way, Éric."

"The pleasure is _entirely _mine." He gritted between his clenched jaw. "What are you doing here, Arwen?"

"I am enjoying your special day! It is quite the lively party here, you know. Too bad I missed the ceremony..." Resting her golden skin on her hand, she smiled a flawless smile. "Besides, I thought you might want to meet your niece." Pulling out a black photograph, she placed the sonogram in front of Erik. He glanced down, pushing the photograph back to his sister.

"I want you out of here, now." He demanded.

"Oh, loosen your belt, brother. News travels fast and I wanted to see you on your wedding day, is that so bad? It isn't like I brought our mother here. Éric, I want to be apart of your life again. If not for me, accept me for your niece." Christine looked at the pair, not seeing just how they could be related.

"I will allow you to stay here for a week and then you must return home. I will be back. Talk to my wife or something." He grumbled, getting up from his chair. He disappeared into the crowd, shaking his head.

"May I?" Christine asked timidly, pointing to the sonogram. Arwen nodded, smiling at Christine's lit up face. "I remember my first sonogram. The sound of their heartbeat is amazing, isn't it?"

"The most glorious sound I have ever heard..." Arwen pondered for a bit, glancing at Christine's ring. "You and Erik have a child, then?" Christine shook her head, the thought of a child at the moment scaring her half to death. "You are with child...?"

"I have a son, from a previous relationship." Arwen nodded, understanding the situation. "His name is Parker. He was eleven weeks early... Poor thing... He's fully deaf..."

"How does Erik communicate with him?" Christine smiled widely, the memory of waking up in the hospital and seeing Erik attempting to sign for the first time flooding her memory.

"He learned Sign Language. He is still a novice, but he knows enough to communicate with Parker. It's yet another language he can add to his laundry list of languages..."

"Why are you sitting here and not dancing?" Arwen noticed that Christine and Erik were the only ones sitting when she arrived.

"I have a herniated disk in my back. I'm scheduled for surgery on January 5th." Arwen grabbed her hand, noticing that Erik was striding back over to the table. With a wink, Arwen rose to her feet and rushed over to her brother, leaving Christine with the welcoming words she longed to hear all night.

"He will take care of you, he always takes care of the ones he loves and if I know anything about my brother, it is that he loves you deeply, Christine."

* * *

**A/N: **

**The song _Firefly _is by Ed Sheeran **

**I do not own the song, but it is a cute song. **

**For the ceremony, I used the song _This is Promise You _by NSYNC, but I was really thinking of the Anthem Lights cover.**

**Sorry not sorry. **

**Bach's _Air _on G string is one of my most favored classical pieces. It is calming and I suggest you search it on YouTube and listen to the Dublin String Quarter version. **

**I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THESE SONGS. **

**I am happy that you finally got to meet Arwen! Yay! **

**Read and review! 5 reviews for the next chapter :) **

*** A**


	11. Chapter 11

**FaceTime **

* * *

Arwen was beautiful, elegant, graceful, and magnificent. Her golden tresses flowed delicately down her back as she walked to and fro the ballroom, mingling with the guests, trying to get to know _all _of the guests. Christine sat in amazement. She could hardly believe that Arwen and Erik were related. The tension ceased and Erik was able to have a decent time with his sister, speaking of their accomplishments and their lives. She was so in awe of his virtuosity. Christine's mouth fell agape as he listened the two siblings banter about French politics and the differences between European and American cuisine. To be perfectly frank, Christine felt unintelligent in the presence of two geniuses such as the two DeDéaux siblings. Arwen was a successful chef, educated in literature like her mother, but her knowledge of French history was impeccable. She spoke Elvish, figuring that she should do her name justice. Erik thought that she should learn a _real _language and to Christine's not-so-surprised face, Arwen spoke as many languages as Erik did, maybe even more. Truly, the two competitive Frenchies did not stop blabbing on and truly, Christine stopped listening. A trait she acquired long ago, living with Meg. As the evening continued, Christine's back began to ache and Erik took full notice of it. By midnight, the reception had ended and Parker was fast asleep in Christine's arms. He had a fully night of dancing with Meg, Nadir, and Grace. He commented on Grace and her flowing hair. He noticed that Grace had a part of ear missing and he wondered if she was deaf and she told him that she was partially deaf, but went to speech therapy and learned to speak. He was intrigued by Grace for the remaining of the night. As he rested in his mother's arm, Erik made his way to the organ, playing his composition that took Christine's breath away. It was sensual, yet respectable. Its romantic melody enticed and entranced Christine into hypnosis as Erik's body moved fluidly with the music he wrote. She wished that he sang, but he warned that she might get greedy. He always liked keeping her on her toes. He reminded her that he had been working on another song for her and after her surgery, he would play it for her during her recovery. Suddenly, her surgery did not seem all that bad.

"I am excited to move into our new home tomorrow, Erik." Christine beckoned from the wall next to the doorway as Erik began to discard of his silk tie.

"Christine, you do not know how excited I am for us to begin our lives together." Scooping up Christine in his arms into a bridal hold Christine wrapped her arms around his neck as Erik lifted his leg and pressed the doorknob down, opening the door. "Did you enjoy your wedding?"

"Our wedding. I did, it was perfect. I am awfully tired, though. My back is killing me from standing up and sitting down, holding Parker, then sitting down and standing up... I just wish to fall asleep next to my husband." Erik smiled, placing Christine down onto her feet. The soft pads of his thumbs found her cheeks as he bent down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that fueled the fire in the pit of Christine's stomach.

Her fingers found the brim of his porcelain mask, lifting it up and over his head. The thick black wig fell to the ground as she kicked it to the side, running her hands through the thin, remaining strands of gray hair he had left on his head. In the light, she could see a glint of gold, the root of his scalp a dismal gray, but the tips of hair, a soft golden shade of yellow. He leaned backwards in her strokes, the feeling of her fingers massaging his scalp emitting a passion in his veins that he had not felt in years, centuries.

"Erik..." She whispered, their foreheads resting upon each other. "Erik..." She cooed again, more strained.

"Mon amour?" His tone was concerned as she began shifting from the balls of her feet to her heels.

"You must unzip me from this dress. It's constricting my back. I must lay down." She breathed out in agony, falling forward in defeat. Her breathing was harsh, her eyelids shut tightly beneath her brunette tresses.

"Okay, okay... I will change you into your night gown. Is that alright, Christine?" She nodded quickly, crying out in pain.

"E-Erik, it hurts! My b-back..." Her breathing quickened as Erik turned her around away from him. "Help me, please!"

"Mon amour, I need you to hold on to the bed post to support yourself while I get you your night clothes. Where are they, Christine?" She shook her head, holding her back in torment. He searched around his room, trying to think of what spurred her pain. He circled himself like a cat chasing its tail. Suddenly, he remembered that he carried her in here. He must have hit her back. Her body lurched over the bed, her sobs becoming more clear.

"Oh god, it h-hurts! M-My back!" She shrieked, her arms wrapped around the bed post, shaking in extreme shock. Erik approached her and began stripping her of her wedding clothes. He grabbed a loose shirt from his drawers, placing it on the bed. "E-Erik..." She groaned, her eyes flickering in torture as her face flushed into a pale white. In haste, he took of her lace brassiere, pulling the t-shirt over her head.

"Christine, you must take deep breaths. I am calling an ambulance." He picked her up and placed her on the bed, only earning an excruciating cry from her pain stricken mouth.

"My back!" She screamed out, rolling onto her stomach, digging her face into the pillows, her hands clenching the sheets in pure misery.

"What's wrong?! I heard screaming!" Meg ran in, fully clothed in her pink pajamas. Rushing to Christine's side, she pressed her hand to her forehead. "She has a high fever, how long has she been like this?"

"She has been in pain for only about seven minutes. The paramedics are on their way." Meg gently rubbed Christine's arm, her fingers going in circles. Erik grabbed his wig and mask in a frantic state, retreating to the bathroom.

"Hey, Chris... I'm here, Erik is here... We'll be okay... Just take a few breaths..." Meg cooed, grabbed Christine's hand. Christine was sweating profusely, her face contorting in her suffering. "The paramedics will be here soon, just stay with us..."

"M-Meg, it h-hurts..." Christine groaned in hyperventilation, her breathing erratic, her hands shaking. "IT HURTS, MEG!"

"Erik! She's having a panic attack! Erik, hurry!" Erik rushed out with a wet wash cloth, placing it on Christine's forehead as Meg went downstairs, waiting for the paramedics to arrive. He searched Christine's green bloodshot eyes as she could hardly breathe.

"Christine, you must calm down. You will be okay, you must stay calm. For me, for Parker, you must take a breath." Christine violently thrashed, knocking down Erik's glass of water off of the bedside table, but he did not care. He grabbed her wrists, pinning her down on the bed. "Christine, listen to me right now, you are in severe pain and until the paramedics get here, you must stay calm. Can you do that for me, can you do that for your Erik?" His golden eyes were in a panic as her wide eyes glossed over, her breathing coming to an abrupt stop. She was motionless, not blinking, all in one second. "C-Christine?" He croaked, his voice cracking in fear of the worst. He pressed two fingers to her neck, taking a sigh of relief. She had a pulse.

"She was yelling about her back, sir. She is in here with her husband." Meg rushed in with three other EMTs and a gurney. Lifting Christine onto the bed, Erik quickly followed them, not leaving Christine's side. "What is wrong with her, Erik? She's not screaming!"

"Blood pressure 75 over 40." The woman EMT called out, placing an oxygen mask over Christine. "She has a temperature of 104, Matt."

"What is wrong with her?" Meg cried, lunging in Erik's arms.

"She's in shock, ma'am. Her blood pressure is very low and her pulse is faint. We must get her to the hospital immediately or she risks a coma." Meg sobbed louder as Erik pushed her back inside the house, his eyes frightened. Grabbing her shoulders, he wiped her tears and nodded. "Hey! Only the husband can come with us, sorry."

"Meg, you must take care of Parker. I will call you when she wakes." Through her tears, she nodded as he placed a kiss on her forehead. "Meg, do this for Christine. You must stay strong for Christine."

"Take care of her, Erik." Erik took a breath, nodding in response. He took his coat from Meg and escaped into the ambulance.

"Severely dehydrated and her blood pressure is still very low, Matt." The woman called out once again. Christine lay lifeless on the gurney, her hand motionless in Erik's tight grip.

"You must be careful with her! She has a herniated disk in her back, she is fragile..." Erik whispered, his nerves heightened as the ambulance sped through the city. His hands shook over her body, wanting so badly to help her, to place all her pain onto his body, but all he could do was sit and watch his wife lay numb and motionless on the gurney.

"Herniated L4/L5, Matt." Thankfully, the hospital was not too far from the château as they pulled into the emergency room, Erik running after Christine. "I'm sorry, sir. You're going to have to wait in the waiting room."

"No! She is my wife! I have to go with her!" Erik protested, his voice roaring through the quiet corridors. Christine's body had already gone through the double doors as Erik fought his way past the male EMT. "PLEASE, let me go with her! She is very fragile!"

"Sir, if you do not calm down, I will be forced to call security. Please, sit down and fill out these forms." Erik snatched the clipboard from the EMT, taking a defeated seat in the farthest corner.

"Shit, I do not know her middle- Austen..." Erik quickly filled out her forms, placing himself as her emergency contact. Racing to the front desk, he rather loudly put the clipboard down in front of the nurse. "I am sorry, I am quite... Frazzled. It is my wedding day, as you can see..." He peered down at is too-small vest, sighing sadly at the events. His wedding band shined in the fluorescent lights of the hospital as he signed the form, silently cursing to himself for injuring Christine, _his_ Christine.

"Mr. Deslow, will you be using your medical insurance or paying out of pocket?" The young nurses voice put him out of his trance as he glanced up at her.

"I do not have her medical insurance information... Out of pocket, I suppose." He reached for his wallet, only to meet with a surprised nurse. "What is wrong?"

"I just assume that this will be a very expensive visit. She is having surgery, you know, for her herniated disk. It could cost up to twenty four thousand dollars out of pocket, Mr. Deslow." He stepped forward, his eyebrows furrowed inward to meet his offended demise. Slamming his credit card onto the counter, he leaned forward, his breathing deep within his chest.

"My wife has a blood pressure of 75 over 40, a herniated disk, and a temperature of 104, my dear. For all I care, I will buy this _whole_ _damn_ _hospital_ if I have to, if that means saving her life. I will _not_ lose my wife on my wedding day." Glancing down at his credit card, he tilted his head insistingly, narrowing his eyes. "If you may, my dear."

Eight hours later, Erik had not sat down not once. The masked man paced upon the tile floor of Ford Janson General, Nadir Khan by his side. This time, he knew that the woman behind those double doors was so much more than just a singer for one of his record. She was his wife and his duty was to protect her. He loved her and he could not bear to lose her tonight, or any night. He loved her with all of his heart and he wished that he could be there beside her, holding her hand. He desired to touch her skin, to hold her tightly against his chest, protect her from all the evil that she has endured...

"She was screaming and thrashing, Nadir. All of a sudden, she just stopped. I thought she had a heart attack. I was so scared, I thought I lost her." Erik spoke quietly, his hands behind his back. "I checked her pulse and she had a faint one, but it happened so instantaneously... It was all too much at once, Nadir..."

"My brother, she will make it through this. For you and for your son, she will pull through alive and well." Nadir replied, his voice true and honest. "She had worn out her body, exhaustion taking over, thus going into shock. It is a scary thing, my brother. I believe in her, though."

"Mr. Deslow?" A familiar voice beckoned from the narrow corridor. Erik's head jerked towards the sound, meeting eyes with Doctor Charter in his scrubs. He rushed over, his eyes pleading, hurting like he had never felt before.

"Doctor Charter, please tell me you have good news... Oh god, please..." Erik begged, his voice that of a child. Doctor Charter blinked slowly, gesturing for Erik to walk beside him.

"Will you take a moment? I have much to explain, Erik." The masked man nodded, walking beside the doctor turning the corner and out of sight from The Persian. With a deep breath, the doctor began. "As you know, Christine had low blood pressure when she arrived here. Her body was in shock and her pulse was faint. We gave her oxygen and it did not seem to work, Erik."

"N-No..." Erik muttered, his hands shaking.

"Erik, no she is not dead. We used a defibrillator and regained a strong enough pulse to put her through surgery. The herniated L4/L5 was operated on and should be healed in two weeks time." Doctor Charter paused, taking a deep breath. "Erik, were you aware of the medication Christine was taking? Not the medication I prescribed, it was from another doctor." Doctor Charter flipped through the papers, finally arriving at the form he needed. "A Doctor Guidicelli." Erik shook his head, furrowing his brow in confusion. "She suffers from severe depression and her low blood pressure was a result from dehydration, fainting spells, and her antidepressants." Erik nodded in understanding, not wanting to pry any longer. They both had secrets.

"That does not explain her panic attack, Doctor Charter." Erik inferred, trying to better situate himself within the information given to him.

"I spoke to Meg on the phone and she told me that her ex-boyfriend had called her on multiple occasions, demanding that he see her and his child. Meg explained that while you were gone to your office, Cameron would visit the château and in Christine's state of handicap, he would yell at her and scare her into a state of shock. Meg told me that they had been arguing and that you would try to comfort her, but she would push you away, yes?" Erik nodded, angered by Cameron's name. "It really is not my place to say, but Christine was worried that Cameron was going to hurt you. She saw it as protecting you, when really it was putting severe physical harm on her body. Meg told Christine that Cameron tried to fight his way into the reception last night."

"I... I... I do not know what to do with this information, Doctor." Erik replied, clouded by his anger. "I had no idea of Cameron's whereabouts. I was unaware of his visits to our home." Erik's breathing picked up, realizing just what he had done. "This is all my fault... I vowed to protect her! I failed her, Doctor! This is all my fault... Erik's fault..." He muttered, his tears cascading down his cheeks. A strong hand reached his shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly, with a genuine smile.

"Erik, you did not fail her. You saved her in more ways than you can ever know." Doctor Charter cleared his throat, bracing himself for the next bit of information. "When you pinned Christine down onto the bed, it sparked a bad memory." The doctor said flatly, Erik's eyes burning with hatred.

"Did Cameron... I swear I was trying to calm her down! She had knocked down a glass, she was thrashing around and I did not want her to hurt herself..."

"Her brain registered your forceful act as a non-consensual action and she went into shock. Her body shut down and when she wakes up, she won't remember it. She represses it. Meg told me that he did what he did on multiple occasions..." The doctor paused, reaching the end of the corridor. "I gave Christine a private room. She is resting, but she should be waking up soon. Erik, you have a very precious woman in your hands. She loves you a lot, you just... Be careful with her, okay?" Doctor Charter placed the clipboard in the plastic tray, shaking Erik's hand with the other. With a nod, Doctor Charter escaped into the white walls of the hospital.

Erik slowly opened the door, Christine's pale body gracing the hospital bed. Her chest rose and fell steadily, the oxygen tube wrapping around her face, elegantly disappearing in her brown hair. Bringing the chair to her side, he grabbed her cold hand and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckle. Soon, Nadir's voice rang through the doorway. Sitting opposite Erik, The Persian sighed, looking upon the pale sleeping beauty. Whispering a silent prayer to himself, Nadir leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest, exhaling softly.

"Oh, Erik... I am sorry this had to happen on your wedding night." Erik smiled gently, wiping the tears from his face. "She will be fine, I promise."

"I feel like just yesterday I was here watching her sleep... The only difference is that now, I am married to her... And I do not regret it at all, Nadir. She makes me a better person. I will not leave her alone ever again, no... Never again, Christine." Erik smiled against her cold hand, his weeping muffled by her skin. In a moment, his tears were stopped as he looked up at the stagnant, unchanging beep of the heart monitor, not knowing if it was Erik's or Christine's heart stopping, Nadir did not know. Erik could not differentiate between the heart beat so loudly in his head, someone might have thought an angry mob was after him, and the non-existent beeping heart beats of the woman he loved so deeply, who lay lifeless beneath his grasp.

"C-Christine, no! Please, no! You have to wake up, mon amour!" Erik was shouting at the pale body as Nadir rushed out to get help. "CHRISTINE AUSTEN DESLOW, YOU WILL NOT GIVE UP ON ME, NO YOU CANNOT!" Erik's shaken lips laid upon hers, so cold that it sent a shiver down his spine.

"Move aside, Mr. Deslow!" A nurse shouted at him, another nurse pushing him out the door.

"Please wait outside, sir!" Another woman yelled. Soon, Doctor Charter ran passed him and shut the door behind him, leaving Erik in the hallway.

Erik slid down the wall, his sobbing overtaking his breathing. He did not know which one was which at this point. Ripping the mask off of his face, he buried his deformed face into his hands as his body shook with utter despair. Flinching at the hand upon his shoulder, he rose to his feet, his vision blurry with hot tears.

"She is awake, Erik. She is very weak. I suggest you keep your voice down and you do not do anything to put her into a state of shock. I assume she was having a bad dream... Do me a favor and keep her awake. Put thoughts of summertime in her head or something, Erik. That's honestly all that I'm asking of you, buddy. She's only human." Erik nodded as he took a deep breath, not bothering to put his mask back on, entering the quiet room. The brunette sat up, her eyes tired and her body exhausted. Yet, she still smiled with a brightness that only she carried with her through the worst of circumstances.

"Erik, my husband, you're here." She whispered, her blinking sluggish as she patted the seat beside her on the bed. "Sit with me awhile, please?"

"Anything for you, mon amour." He wiped his tears with his hand, walking towards her. Placing the black mask on the table, he scooted next to her, encapsulating her into his warm embrace. She let out a sigh of relief, burrowing into his side, her hand resting on his chest.

"Erik?" She breathed out, intertwining their fingers. She giggled at the warmth of his hand making contact with her ice cold fingers, her laugh a sound _he _would die ten times over to hear.

"Yes, Christine?" He answered, playing with their hands. His fingertips tingled her nerves as he ran them in circles over all possible spaces, never leaving an inch of her hand unexplored.

"You're tickling me... Did you know I was ticklish?" Erik paused, moving his fingertips up her arms, across her forearms, and against her neck. As she cowered in shyness, her laughing breaking out into a harmonious melody filling the room, he smiled widely at the sight of his beautiful wife. "Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?" He answered again, his palm against hers, his hand engulfing hers in an instant.

"You know, it's rude to stare... Your eyes have not left my lips since you joined me on this bed, Erik." He brought his left hand to her lips, tracing them with his thumb. She exhaled, trembling with anticipation.

"Well, you are the one that married me. I can stare all I want now, my wife." He turned his body, his masculine hands swallowing her face as he lowered his face down to hers. Inches apart, he smiled softly bringing his lips to hers in a heated fervor, entangling his hands in her hair in a passionate grasp for desire. Her tongue swiped his bottom lip, begging for entrance. She craved it, her body ignoring all of the medical warnings. Nervously, he opened his mouth and let her in, her tongue exploring each moment of their sensual appetites. Their tongues danced against each other as she truly met the reasoning for _French kissing. _Eagerness overtook her as he moved to hover her body, carrying his weight in his elbows. Her hand met the back of his head, pressing him in to deepen their kiss. She hungered for his hands over her body in this frenzy of desire. A string of his name left her lips as he pulled away, his eyes dark with lust. She had not felt so wantonly promiscuous in such a long time. She wanted to give her all to him, shameless and full of love. He knew that she was ready in her heart, in her mind, but as he pulled away her face turned confused, insulted. As the back of his hand caressed her cheek, he placed a loose kiss on her jaw as he sat up, kissing her forehead.

"E-Erik..." She squeaked, her innocence sprawled out onto the floor, as if she was a lion on display. She covered her chest as if it was exposed. She was stripped of her pride as he moved to calm her, not wanting to her to suffer anymore.

"My dear, we cannot go any farther until you are healed. I want to, believe me... Christine, you must understand. I want it to be special, like you said, Christine... Christine, please believe me." Her eyes were disorientated, her body distracted by the ache that throbbed between her legs. "Christine, do you wish to be alone? I am sorry... I should have stopped it before it got too far, it is my fault. I just do not want to hurt you. I want you to be healed. I want you to enjoy the first time we make love as husband as wife..." He was on his knees, holding her hands, pleading his case. He could not read her expression, she was truly disorientated. "Christine, please say something..." Pressing what felt like a million kisses up and down her arm, he finally stood to his feet and picked up his mask, his head hung low. "Christine, I would never want to hurt you. I am not Cameron, nor will I ever be."

"W-What did you say? How... How did you about know that?" She finally piped up, her lips in a tight line.

"The doctor told me. Christine, I am your husband. Thus far, I have failed to protect you and I will never be able to forgive myself, but I will never be him. I will never force you into anything. I will always put your needs before me. I am never going to leave your side. Christine, I need you and you need me. I just wish that you could see that... I want our first time to be special, in our home that is waiting for us. Two bodies, coming as one... I want to make you feel special, to feel like the most loved woman in the world, but until you are fully healed, I dare not hurt you. I do not want anymore hospital visits until you are in labor with our first child-"

"You think about those things?" She interrupted, completely surprised. He turned away from the door as he stood awkwardly facing her, mask in hand.

"Of course, Christine. I want Parker to have a little sister and a brother. The penthouse can hold one more child, but if we are to have a third, we can move somewhere outside of the city. A nice house with a backyard... A pool... Somewhere you can sing for me, of course. We shall have a cat and two dogs. I wish deeply for it, Christine. You do not know _how _badly I do not want to be here again until you are having our child, but that... that is for another time." He paused, preparing to put the mask on to brace the hallways.

"Erik, you are breaking your promise." Christine spoke out, a smile on her face.

"What promise is that, Christine?" He asked, his mask secured.

"You promised you would never leave my side, yet you're going out in the hallway... Leaving me in this room all alone, also you're wearing your mask. You know the rule, Erik. No guests, no mask." Erik let out an airy left, swiftly returning to his chair bedside the bed. Taking off the rings from the bedside table, he slipping the rings onto her hand. With a sigh of happiness, he kissed her cheek and realized that he had not said what he meant to say, had he not been interrupted by the paramedics and with a smile, he continued with the words he promised himself that he would never get tired of repeating to his wife, his Christine.

"Christine, I love you."

* * *

**A/N: **

**Now that Christine's back is fixed... Maybe the sexy times will occur... Or will it? **

**DUN DUN DUN. **

**Read and review! **

**Thanks for reading my lovely Dialers! **

*** A **


	12. Chapter 12

**Ready for an Upgrade **

* * *

Christine's surgery was successful and she was _well_ into her recovery. Within the next three weeks, she was walking slowly with the help of Erik by her side. Her fever had gone down completely and her blood pressure remained a little below normal, but it was nothing to be feared. Erik was determined to track down Cameron, but not until Christine was fully recovered. He dare not leave her side again. As the new family moved into the penthouse, Erik began working fiercely in his studio on an opera that was to be composed for a theater in Italy. Balancing the composition and Christine's recuperation was stressful, but Erik reassured Parker that everything was going to be alright. Christine incessantly asked Erik what went on at the wedding with him and Meg, but all he could muster up was a simple, 'inconsequential,' as he skimmed through his musical files. Erik seemed to be more on edge these days, Christine filed it under, 'stress,' as the weeks went by in the penthouse. Meg let the guilt of her actions go, seeing that she was to go on a date with Doctor Charter. After Christine's surgery, Meg visited her and ran into Raoul. Nothing short of a flirtatious giggle, Doctor Charter agreed to a date and Meg was very excited. Christine nevertheless, could not shake the feeling that Erik was frustrated, with something, with himself... Who knew? Ever since his sister had shown up uninvited at the wedding, he had been acting distant, aloof at times. Personally, Christine loved the company of his sister. She wanted to be good friends with Arwen, but Erik was a clear road block. Of course he was still domineering and controlling of Christine's every move, but something within him switched and Christine was determined to find out what it was and why he was acting so strangely at the mention of his sister's name.

"Are you finished with your lunch, Christine?" Erik snapped, grabbing the tray of food before she could answer.

Christine raised her hands in surrender, standing to her feet. She was going to make a statement by storming out, but she was not strong enough to make a statement. Crossing her arms instead, she glared at the masked man as he slowly walked off into the kitchen.

"I know you are staring at me, but I am refusing to acknowledge it simply for the sake of future argumentation that might occur." Christine rolled her eyes, pushing her chair in roughly, slamming her finger in between the chair and table.

"Shit!" Grabbing her finger in pain, she winced in pain as it began to swell. Erik came rushing in, examining her back immediately. "It's my finger. I smashed it in the table, but wait let me guess, it's inconsequential."

"Your pain is _not_ inconsequential to me." He enunciated, his eyes focused on examining the finger. "You look as though you might have broken it, Christine. Let me wrap it for you and get you a splint."

"No, I don't need your damn help. Just go, Erik." She whispered as she painfully made her exit to the kitchen. She stood in front of the freezer, searching for a bag of frozen peas. Finally finding it, she rested against the counter, applying the frozen peas to he finger. Like she could predict the weather, she looked up and Erik stood in the doorway, his fists balled and his eyes narrowed.

"Go where, Christine? Go to hell? Go back to hell where demons like me belong?" He spat, his voice bellowing through the thick air between them. She sighed, continuing to ignore him. "I do not understand your anger towards me! I am trying to help you! Goddamn you, Christine Daaé!" Erik raised his hands in the air, his blood boiling with anger. "As if marrying you was not enough, Christine-" He regretted those words as soon as they escaped his malformed lips. His eyes shot up to meet her watery eyes, her golden irises filled with salty pearls to the brim. She placed the bag of peas onto the counter, exhaling a trembling breath. Without a word, she pushed past him, only to be stopped by his masculine grip.

"Christine, please. I did _not_ mean those words, you have to believe me." She shook her head, her hands covering her ears like a child. "Christine, listen to me, please!" He begged as her green eyes pierced his heart like a sword engulfed in flames.

"No! Finish that sentence, Erik. Christine, what? What does Christine do that makes you regret this marriage so much? Or is it what Christine _doesn't_ do that makes you regret it so much?!" She screamed at him, hitting his chest as hard as she could. She was furious, she was incensed.

"Christine, you need to calm down. Your blood pressure is going to get too high and you will have a panic attack again. Please, let me get you to bed. Do you want to take a nap, my dear?" His voice was hushed, his grip loosened as he pleaded with eagerness, trying to coax his wife.

"You're so mean to me! I have done absolutely nothing to deserve this! You're hiding things from me!" She shrieked, collapsing into his arms, crying so hard she could barely breathe. "You might as well just call me inconsequential!"

"Christine, my dear, please I need you to calm down. You are going to-"

"SHUT UP, YOU ARE YELLING AT ME! GET AWAY FROM ME!" His grip yet again tightened on her, his eyes trying to maintain eye contact as she furiously hit his chest once more. "My ears, you're making them ring! GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"I am not yelling at you." He said calmly, his hands brushing her cheek.

"No! Get your hands off of me, Erik! If it is just so damn horrible being married to me, why don't you just leave me and my son alone?!" Christine cried out the words. "YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT US IN THAT FIRE TO BURN!" She bawled, leaving Erik dumbfounded in the kitchen. The brunette stormed out, no matter what her pain felt like.

She raced to the bedroom, slamming the door. Luckily, there were no stairs in the penthouse that she had to worry about. She did not want to look at Erik right now, she could not even bare to think of him at the moment. On cue, his fists were slamming on the door, his foreign tongue yelling through the thick wooden wall that rested between them. She very well knew that he could pick the lock on any of the doors, also knowing that he designed this penthouse himself. Christine slid down the wall, her hands buried deeply within her arms. She could not control the tears that fell down her hot cheeks. What more did he want from her? She knew going into this that this was nothing more than a business agreement, but she was stupid enough to actually fall in love with him! God, Christine felt humiliated, exposed to the world with nowhere to hide. She was hyperventilating. Trying to think of Doctor Charter's voice she sat up and widened her chest.

_'You must take a deep breath, Christine.' Raoul beckoned, with one hand on her shoulder and the other on her collar bone. 'Whenever you feel frustrated or angry, you just take a few deep breaths and it will all be okay.'_

_'What if it isn't okay? What if he comes back and does things to me...' She whispered like a child who had just gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar._

_'He's never coming back, Christine. You have to trust Erik. He'll protect you. Just take deep breaths with me, okay?' Raoul's voice was quite sweet, manly but hypnotizing in a way. His hazel eyes peered into hers as he smiled gently, walking her through the steps to avoid a panic attack. He was always there on call for her, especially for Christine. He made her feel special, he made her feel welcomed._

_"What if Erik can't protect me?' Christine squeaked as Raoul's fingers dug into her shoulder. 'He can't protect both my son and me... He's just one person! Cameron is going to come after us and he's going to take my son away from me! Oh god, I can't take this! What choice do I have?' Christine bawled, her hands covering her face as she cried. 'If Cameron wants his son, what answer do I give? He has a right to see his own goddamn son!' Raoul's eyes shot towards the monitors that attached to Christine as he laid her down, brushing her hair away from her face._

_'Christine, you must take deep breaths. Don't think about those things right now, just think about your breaths. Your blood pressure is spiking again. Please...' He ran to the IV, preparing to sedate the sobbing woman._

_'He's going to take my son away from me!' She began kicking her legs, thrashing her body. Raoul sighed at the sight, grabbing her gently at the shoulders. Genevieve rushed into the room, helping Raoul grab a hold of the hysterical woman. 'My son! My son!' Raoul nodded, giving the signal to Genevieve. With one swift movement, she pressed the morphine drip and in unison, they rested Christine's body down onto the bed._

_'Christine, I need you to trust me. Can you do that for me?' Raoul's voice was soft, yearning. He could tell that she was drifting off into a deep slumber, her eyelids heavy with lethargy. She nodded lazily, glancing over at the blurry figure of a man, smiling a sweet childish smile._

_'Okay.'_

"Christine, open this door... I want to talk to you, I can hear you crying. Please, let me help you... Let me apologize to you..." His soothing voice beckoned from the opposite side of the door as Christine burrowed her face even deeper into the crevice of her arms. "Christine... Christine..." He sang, his voice melodic as it so effortlessly sank into the harmonious tune.

He knew that his singing was her weakness, but she was not going to give up that easily. Two could play this game. Christine stood to her feet, discarding of her heater gray sweater. She wore a simple lavender camisole and cotton mid thigh skirt. Going into her closet, she quickly changed into black Nike shorts and a purple sports bra. Laying down the gray yoga mat, she smiled at her genius set up of a plan. What better time to do your physical therapy exercises, then right after a healthy meal? Tying her hair to the side in a loose braid, she opened the door with a melodramatic sigh.

"Erik." She stated flatly, her eyes dull as can be. "I am only letting you in here, because I need help with my exercises." His eyes trailed up her olive skin, her long legs rubbing together as she teasingly moved her hips forward, just yearning to be touched.

Her stomach was flat, her breasts full B-cups, but not overwhelmingly large. Perfect, if anything. Her hair fell over her shoulder, cascading in a pool over her collar bone as she leaned forward, exposing her cleavage. His eyes landed on her piercing green eyes and her questioning eyebrow. He blushed deeply, rubbing his chin with his hand, trying to play off his not-so-subtle check out with his chin scratch.

"Well? Are you going to just stand there and drool or are you going to help me, Maestro?" She rolled the, 'R,' knowing that it would drive him to the point of insanity. He blinked slowly as she stepped backwards, welcoming him into the bedroom. "You remember the exercises, right? You have to stretch out my arms first, Maestro." He nodded as best as he could, his head completely fogged with lustful thoughts.

"W-Why do you keep calling me that?" He choked out, watching her sit down on the mat.

"Does the Maestro not like his nickname?" She purred into his ear as he sat down beside her, smiling devilishly as she nibbled on his earlobe. "I can call you anything you want... Maestro... Erik... Daddy..." Popping the, 'd,' she leaned forward and positioned her arms out into the proper angle. Erik shook his head, trying his hardest to stay focused. What game was she trying to play? Erik swallowed hard, finally realizing that she was getting her revenge for what he had said. With a smirk, he gently began humming one of his favorite songs. Surely, he could play this game too. Surely, the Maestro could have some fun of his own. "Are you ready, Maestro? You can't possibly help me from all the way over there. You have to sit behind me." Mon dieu.

"My wish is your command, Angel." Christine's eyebrows furrowed at her newly penned nickname. She enjoyed the thought as he felt his chest on her back, the warmth of his body emanating onto to her skin.

Reaching in front of her, he pulled tenderly at her arms, stretching them backwards to make sure he did not harm her, but that she was getting the proper exercise. As he pulled at her right arm with his right hand, his left arm snaked around her body, pressing against abdomen. She inhaled sharply, his fingertips pressing delicately at her flesh. She breathed out, feeling the stretch of her arm, completely immersed in the exercise. Erik pondered at the thought of using this moment to his advantage. With one swift movement, he moved his hand upward and timidly began cupping her breast. Surprisingly, she did not flinch. Her breathing picked up as he squeezed ever-so softly at the olive flesh, a small moan emitted from her lips. Taken aback, he pulled his hand away and abruptly pushed her body forward.

"Why did you stop?" Her words were slurred into one long sentence. Erik's face made a series of expression varying from confusion, longing, desire, and more confusion. He did not expect that response from her, no he expected disgust and anger. Why did she enjoy that? Why did she respond to his touch?

"I... I thought..." He could not think of any words to speak, no voice to conjure up a viable response for his actions. She turned around, her eyes dark with fervor. Grabbing Erik by the collar of his shirt, she wrapped her strong legs around his waist, her forehead pressed against his.

"I want you to understand something and I want you to understand it now." She growled, her lips pressed against his cheek. "As husband and wife, you're allowed to touch anything you want. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine." Her stomach was churning with a carnality that she had only felt once before, but it as so vivid now, she could hardly ignore it. "Do you want me?" She hummed, the vibration of her voice sending a sensation down to Erik's sex. He groaned, placing his hands instinctively on her hips. "I can't hear you Maestro, but I can feel you."

"C-Christine..." He grunted, his nails digging into her sides.

"There you go again with the stuttering." She laughed slightly, her lips attaching to his neck in a sensual kiss. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Hmmm?" His thumbs circled her rib cage, earning a deep intake of breath from his wife.

"Do you want me?" Her eyes had dilated, the green was brighter than ever as they sat still together, silenced by their heavy breathing.

His hands found the middle of her back, pushing her body into his. Her tone was no longer carnal, no longer full of lust and desire. It was full of love, truth, and innocence. She knew that she wanted all of him, mind, spirit, and body. They had waited almost five months to make love to their own accord and in this moment, she truly felt like it was the right time. Her forest green speckled eyes searched his and he traced her bottom lip, a habit he found most romantic. With a sigh of pure ecstasy, he stood to his feet with her legs still wrapped around his waist, knowing that they had waited love enough.

"I have wanted you from the first time I heard your voice. The question is, do you want me, Angel?" He asked, sitting his wife down on the edge of the bed. Kneeling down between her legs, her fingertips traced the lacerated face, the trail of the bullet leaving no mercy. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of contact that met with his marred skin. As his hands grasped loosely to her thighs, she pulled his face gently towards hers and placed a kiss on his malformed cheek.

"No, I don't just want you to have sex with me. I want you to make love to me." Her words flowed like music to his ears as he met her lips in a zealous kiss. Falling to the bed, his body hovered over hers, his hands caressing her cheeks as tears began to fall. "Why are you crying?" As they pulled away, Christine began to wipe his tears, resting on his chest.

"I am crying, because I am happy. You are my angel, Christine. I just want you to know that. I am glad we waited until now." Without another word, Erik rolled over atop of Christine again, holding his body weight in his elbows. With a quick kiss to her nose, Erik rose to his knees to remove his vest, only to be stopped by Christine's tiny hands.

"Allow me, Maestro."

* * *

Christine awoke sometime later under the black satin sheets, her hair awry. She smiled at her memories, Erik and herself finally becoming one. It became habit waking up to empty sheets, but to her surprise, a single white rose await her on his pillow. She grinned at the romantic gesture, lifting the soft petals to her nose. She grabbed his white dress shirt off of the floor and draped it over her thin figure. Rolling the sleeves up and buttoning it up, she exited the room, only to be met with the smell of fine Italian cuisine. She managed to get to the kitchen, finding Erik facing away from her and to the stove. He wore dark jeans and a gray sweater. This was the most casual she had ever seen him. She reveled in the sights of her husband, before bumping into the bar stool. Glancing down at her swollen finger, she silently cursed all chairs that have ever been built. The unmasked man turned slowly, his deliciously beautiful smile was nothing short of welcoming.

"If you did not think I heard you before you bumped the stool, you are mistaken my Angel." She rolled her eyes, taking a seat on the counter in front of him. "You should wear my clothes more often." He mumbled into the crook of her neck, his hands caressing the smooth skin of her thighs.

"You should make love to me more often." She could feel his smile against her skin as he nipped lightly at her flesh, causing her to shiver and fall restlessly into his arms.

"I think I can arrange that." With a kiss to her jaw, he turned back to his cooking and began to effortlessly sauté some sort of vegetable.

"How long have you been awake?" She inquired, leaning back on her hands.

"About three hours, my Angel. I went to the store and talked to Meg. She is taking Parker for the night." Christine raised her eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what possessed Meg to do such a thing.

"Why is she taking Parker?"

"I do not know her reasoning. She simply said that she would like to have his company for the evening. I did not object, for the exact same reason..." He trailed off, smiling to himself.

"What reason is that?" Christine inferred.

"The reason is that I would like _your_ company for the evening. You have been asleep for quite awhile and now that you are awake, _we_ can have a romantic dinner and spend the rest of the evening... Doing more romantic things." He winked insistingly, turning off the stove. "Oh I forgot to mention, Doctor Charter called. He wanted to ask if you will be attending your visit at his clinic tomorrow. I told him you would call him back. I left his number over there, on the counter." Erik smiled, pressing a kiss on her cheek. With a nod, he continued cooking, humming an unfamiliar tune.

Christine hopped off the counter and made her way over to the suggest area. Tearing the piece of paper off, she took her phone out of her purse and quickly dialed.

"Doctor Charter's office, this is Genevieve." Her voice was perky and truly, it surprised Christine that they were still open at almost six in the evening.

"Hi Genevieve, this is Christine Daaé. My husband told me that Doctor Charter left a message for me?" Genevieve moved a round a bit, finally settling in her seat.

"Oh yes, let me patch you through." Christine smiled, leaning against the cold marble top.

"Hello?" Raoul's creamy voice rang through, sending chills down Christine's spine.

"Doctor Charter, it's Christine. You left a message with my husband?" Raoul smiled on the other side of the call, leaning back in his chair.

"I did. I was wondering if you still were planning on coming into the clinic tomorrow. You didn't come last week and I thought maybe you were feeling better." His voice was sincere, trustworthy.

"I had another episode this afternoon. I thought about what you said about those breathing exercises and I tried calming myself down, Doc. My ear began to hurt." He hummed to himself, listening intently on her conversation. "Erik will drop me off tomorrow at eleven on the way to his office, is that okay?"

"Perfect, I will see you then. Please, try to take deep breaths before you fall asleep, I don't want your ear to hurt anymore." Christine smiled as she hung up the phone, looking at Erik setting the table. Walking over to him, she wrapped his arms around his waist. Pushing herself up to her tiptoes, she placed a kiss on his neck.

"This smells delicious, Maestro. What is it?" Erik turned around, brushing a few stray hairs out of her face.

"Angel Hair Pomodoro. It is nothing too extravagant, my dear. What did the doctor talk about?" He continued setting the table, placing a salad down in the middle of the table.

"He wants to see me tomorrow about my episode today. I told him you would drop me off tomorrow on the way to the office at eleven. Is that okay?" Erik nodded, pulling out the chair for Christine. With a gracious nod, Christine took her seat. "Thank you, Maestro. May I ask you something?"

"Anything you would like, my mind is yours to take." He sat down across from her, placing his napkin on his lap.

"Do you think that I could borrow one of your drivers tomorrow? I would like to go shopping for something nice to wear. I want to surprise you." Erik tilted his head, curious at her proposition.

"What is mine is yours. I will have Garrett at your beck and call tomorrow. What is the surprise, my Angel?" She giggled at his question, twirling the thin noddles.

"If I told you, what would be the fun in that?"

* * *

Christine sported gray skinny jeans and a blue long sleeve fleece top. Her tan leather jacket hung tightly around her arms, as it color coordinated with her boots - A gift from Erik for Christmas. Christine decided to wear her hair in a ponytail, her body temperature feeling hotter than normal. Perhaps it was the fleece. As she entered the clinic doors, she was greeted by Genevieve's sweet smile at the front desk window. Christine signed in, then sat down in the farthest corner, a habit she picked up from Erik. There were about three more people waiting with her, a mother in her fifth month of pregnancy, a man who was older, and a young girl - who could not be older than fifteen. Christine sighed happily, recalling last nights events. Closing her eyes, she leaned back against the cool wall and dosed off into a blissful nostalgic rest, knowing that the wait was going to be longer than usual.

_'Why do you love me?' Christine whispered against Erik's burning skin as she followed him more than willingly into the bedroom. _

_'There are not enough words in the world to describe such a feeling.' He answered, kicking the door closed behind them. He turned around swiftly, pinning Christine to the door, underneath his body. 'Why do you ask such a question?' His hands found the buttons of his dress shirt that swam around her tiny frame. With an excruciatingly slow speed, he unbuttoned each button. _

_'I hit you and I yell at you. It's hardly a reason to love someone, Erk. I accuse you of not caring about me.' He mumbled some Italian words against her neck, peeling the shirt off her shoulders as it gathered in a pool of white at her feet. Kicking it to the side, she stood naked underneath him. Her fingers trailed up his sides, taking the sweater off of his body. She bit her lip at the sight of her husband, his breathing ragged as his lips attacked the crevice of her breasts, her fingertips finding the few golden strands of hair he had left. He enjoyed the sensation of her fingers massaging his scalp, humming in gratitude. Her hands met his belt, fumbling to remove the leather from its loop. Laughing at her struggle, she groaned against his neck. He pulled the belt out without effort, unclasping his jeans with ease. She glanced down at him, biting her lip once again. Her eyes met his, full of lust, full of love. 'I sometimes make myself believe that you don't care about me.'_

_'I will never not care about you...' He trailed off as he crouched down, his lips leaving a trail of light kisses down her torso, his fingers finding her hips. 'This I promise you.' _

"Christine? Christine Daaé?" Genevieve's voice broke her dream as Christine shook her head, trying to get her lascivious thoughts out of her mind.

"Y-Yes?" Christine sat up, gathering her purse.

"Doctor Charter is ready for you." Christine nodded, making her way to the back room. After getting weighed and her vitals taken, Genevieve led her to her usual room in the back of the clinic, a private room. No fever. "How is your back feeling?"

"It is much better, thank you. It's my ear that is bothering me." Genevieve took note of Christine's symptoms, grabbing the otoscope.

"May I?" Christine gave way to her ear as Genevieve peered inside her ears. "Is anything wrong, Genevieve?"

"Oh, please call me Gen. Only my mother calls me Genevieve and only when I'm in trouble." Genevieve mumbled, switching ears. "It seems like nothing is internally wrong with your ears, which is good. Doctor Charter will be in a moment, just sit tight for me." Genevieve smiled sweetly, leaving the room. Christine discarded of her leather jacket and set it to the side, awaiting the doctor. Moments later, a soft knock was emitted from the door.

"Come in, Doc." Genevieve at Doctor Charter soon entered the room, with smiling faces. Raoul had cut his hair, shorter than usual. It made his jaw look more defined. He had grown some stubble and Christine definitely noticed.

"Gen tells me that you're having an ear problem, Christine?" Raoul gently laid Christine down on the check up table, grabbing his stethoscope. Christine nodded, taking deep breaths. She hated being in small spaces. "We're going to get you scheduled for some MRI's, Christine. I want to make sure the nerves and pathways in your head are okay. Is that alright, Christine?" His tone was delicate, his touch awakening.

"Yes. You just have to run it by Erik." Genevieve nodded, marking down something in Christine's folder. "I tried my best to calm myself down today, Doc. I just kept hitting him, though... I feel horrible about it."

"What made you angry?" Raoul helped Christine back to a sitting position as he took his seat on the mobile stool, his hazel eyes honest.

"He said something offensive and I know I should have just forgotten about it, but I just got really mad. I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Raoul! I tried so hard to calm down... I imagined your voice telling me to take deep breaths, but I just kept hitting him... I'm so sorry!" Christine pleaded, her tears heating her cheeks as she covered her face. Raoul took a deep breath himself, shaking his head. Rubbing his eyes, he exchanged a glance with Genevieve, she only nodded back to him. Hesitantly, he grabbed Christine's wrists and placed her hands in his. His hands were large, calloused and rough. Christine dare not look him in the eyes. Soon, she felt Genevieve's hands on her back, making small comforting circles.

"Christine, you must take deep breaths with me. You're getting over worked." Genevieve's voice was motherly, her touch innate as she instructed Christine to take deep breaths with her. "That's it, Christine... You're doing great."

"Christine, I need you to tell me something. Now, it's very important that you tell me the truth, okay?" Genevieve glared at Raoul, narrowing her eyes at the doctor. She mouthed a harsh, 'NO,' in his direction, but men never listen. "Can you do that for me, Christine? Can you tell me the truth?"

"Y-Yes..." Christine said midway through her fourth breath, her hands still in his. She leaned into Genevieve, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Did Erik hit you first?" Christine's head shot up, shaking her head fervently at the accusation. Raoul could see the switch in her, he knew that he had done it. "Gen, get Erik on the phone." Genevieve ran out of the room as two more nurses ran into the room, trying to restrain Christine. She was convulsive, frenzied as she kicked and hit the doctor.

"GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU'RE HURTING ME!" Christine bawled, her ears ringing. She was thrashing her body, trying to get out of the grip of the four of five nurses that had her under their grip.

"Christine, try to take deep breaths." Raoul instructed, grabbing the phone from Genevieve. "Erik? Yes, it's Raoul. Your wife is hysterical. Do you think you could talk to her?"

"STOP IT! STOP YELLING AT ME! GO AWAY! GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU ARE HURTING ME AND MY SON!" Christine's voice was in a decibel that only dog's could hear now, her legs in the air as she socked Raoul in the stomach. "NO, STOP IT! YOU ARE NOT TAKING ME!" She was delirious, delusional. Raoul pressed the phone to her ear, stepping a good distance away from her.

"Christine, Angel, I need you to calm down for the nurses. Can you do that for me?" Christine paused, listening to the voice on the phone. "Christine? Are you there my Angel?" Erik was impatient as he gathered his things from his office. He rushed down to the car, demanding that he be taken to the clinic immediately. "Christine?" He asked again, frightened by the silence.

"E-Erik?" She finally squeaked, her eyes wide. "No, you can't be! YOU AREN'T REAL! THIS IS A JOKE! YOU'RE ALL SO MEAN! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Christine through the phone against the wall, disconnecting the call. Erik sat wide-eyed in the car, yelling at the driver to go faster. Genevieve rushed in, handing the syringe of morphine to Raoul. Raoul approached Christine, his breathing erratic. He had only seen one case like this, during his residency. She was also a woman of Christine's age, a foreign girl. Raoul never knew what happened to her after she got moved to the psych ward. Raoul never had the heart to find out after that.

"Christine, you have one more chance to calm down. I don't want to sedate you." Raoul spoke tersely as Christine flinched in the corner of the room. Her eyes big with terror.

"N-No! I promise I'll be good, I promise!" She was cowered in the corner, her arm reached out in defense, her other arm covering her face. "I promise I'll be good..." She mumbled from underneath her arm.

"Christine, can you sit up here with Genevieve?" Raoul held out his hand graciously, waiting for Christine. She timidly stood up, returning to the check-up table. "Your husband is coming, okay? He'll take care of you and you can go to sleep, okay?" Christine nodded, her hands shaking.

"Where is she? Let me see her!" Erik's voice bellowed from the hallway as he soon barged into the room. His hands met her face, cupping her cheeks in a rush of despair. "Christine, my Angel... Can you hear me?" Her eyes were glazed over, her lips barely parted. He pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, earning no response. "Christine, please answer me. You are scaring me, Christine." The nurses fell silent, rummaging through the drawers to find supplies. "C-Christine, Angel?"

"Call the ambulance, she isn't unresponsive. Get her blood pressure and temperature." Raoul demanded, pushing Erik to the side. "Excuse me, Mr. Deslow." Taking out his opthalmoscope, he used his free hand to open Christine's frozen eyelids. "Shit. What's her reading, Gen?" Raoul demanded.

"88 over 60, temperature of 102. The ambulance is on their way." Raoul nodded, laying Christine down on her back.

"What is wrong with her? What happened? What the hell did you do to her?!" Erik shouted, trying to push his way into the crowd of nurses. His anger was building. He had worked so hard to keep his temper down, for Christine. "TELL ME RIGHT NOW!" He yelled, pushing innocent nurses out of the way, grabbing Raoul by the collar. "What. Did. You. Do. To. Her." He enunciated through his teeth.

"I asked her if you hit her and she went into a frenzy. Now, if you would step aside, I would very much like to attend to my patient. Please, escort Mr. Deslow to the waiting room. The ambulance will be here should be here shortly, Mr. Deslow." Erik's fist met Raoul's jaw in a hook, enraged in every way as Raoul hit the floor. Erik towered over Raoul, his chest heaving in fervor.

"How _dare_ you. Do not touch my wife ever again. Do not even think about calling her or even thinking about her. I suggest you stay on the ground before I make your pathetic body one with the tile beneath you."

And with that, Erik gathered Christine's trembling body in his arms and rushed out to his car without a word, knowing that he could take care of her well enough on his own. She was his to take care of, all his. He would make sure that she never forget that.

Ever.

* * *

**A/N: Christine, Christine...**

**Thank you for the overwhelming reviews! **

**Special thanks to PoE99 ! I love hearing from you! **

**to the user abc : I looked up causes of deafness in the prenatal stages & it was stated that alcoholism in the man could affect the sperm. I am simply just regurgitating the information I read on different websites. I know that alcoholism lowers a man's sperm count, but it also can affect the sperm as well (from what I read). I also am fluent in American Sign Language, so we learned all about what causes deafness in adults, children, and fetuses. **

**I cannot reveal all my secrets about Parker/Cameron just yet. Just keep that in mind. :)**

**Wow, a 6k word chapter! Big things are happening!**

**Read & Review! **

**I love you all!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Data Overage**

**Slight M-Rating content below**.

**you have been warned**.

**winky face. **

* * *

Christine had come out of her shock and slept for the next 48 hours straight. Erik took good care of Parker, making sure he had a lunch packed for school and his water color paints for art class. He was happy that Parker was _so_ accepting of him and vice versa. The bonding that was to be made between them was not as difficult as Erik originally pegged it to be. Christine was worried about Erik and how much he was overworking himself. He had taken on the responsibilities of father, businessman, caretaker, husband, and composer all at once. Erik did not want Christine to be under any stress whatsoever. Erik diagnosed in the privacy of his own thoughts, that Christine suffered from sort of post-traumatic stress and something specific triggers a panic attack, then her body immediately goes into shock. Erik wanted to be sure of his diagnosis, but he did not want to force her into another doctor's office until she was ready. She had asked about Doctor Charter and why she was no longer going to the clinic. Erik would give a terse answer, his infamous word, 'inconsequential,' leaving it at that. Christine did not let that bother her, she knew that she needed to keep breathing controlled, no more episodes. She truly did want to help Erik around the house. He would go to the office for an hour each evening during her nap, never a second over the dot. He would always be there when she awoke, playing piano in the next room. Christine knew the stress was getting to him, though. The right side of his face was getting red and he complained about migraines, but whenever she asked about them, he would always say that _one_ word that suddenly, turned her off more than sauerkraut spread on a giant pickle. Christine, wanting to be the good wife that she was, wanted to surprise Erik and she knew just the thing that was going to tickle him pink!

"Parker, can you show your mom the drawing you did today?" Erik asked of his son, setting down Parker's lunch pail on the kitchen counter. Parker skipped over this mother on the sofa, taking out his paintings of his backpack. He had picked up some of Erik's habits, such as searching through files while humming. In Parker's case, he was buzzing like a bee. Parker happily lifted the picture up to his mother, earning a wide grin from Christine.

"BEAUTIFUL!" She signed, her eyes bright with amazement. He had painted a detailed tree with a tire swing beneath it. The light tones of the leaves blended neatly with the contrasting colors of the sky, painting an extravagant and vivid picture. "I am very proud of you. Why don't you put your backpack in your room and shower?" He nodded with a smile, running off into his room. Christine let out a breath of air, shaky but relaxed.

"Christine, are you alright?" Erik's concerned voice echoed from the kitchen as he leaned over the marble top counter.

"I couldn't be better." She gestured with her index finger, pulling Erik from the confines from the kitchen to the living room. He leaned over, his arms on either side of her head. "Actually, now that I think of it..."

"What did you just think of, _mon ange_?" He stressed French words against the hot flesh of her neck, the cold porcelain of his mask sending a surge of shock down her spine. "What do you want me to do, hmmmmm?" Being much taller than her, he had knelt onto the ground, his hands fleeting to her hips. As his hands felt the rush of senses as he pressed his fingertips into her skin, his lips met her shirt, leaving wet marks where he had just kissed her.

"You're ruining my shirt..." She practically moaned, her hands resting atop his jet black wig.

"You are not going to be wearing it for much longer, why bother with worrying about it now?" He glanced up with his hands fully beneath her cotton shirt, his swollen lips attached to her ribcage.

"What about Parker?" He smiled against her skin, sliding the loose t-shirt off of her, revealing a simple lace brassiere.

"You worry too much, my Angel. He is in the bathtub. I can hear the water running from here. You know how he likes to take long baths. He takes after his _mother_ you know." Erik gently tossed Christine's legs up into the couch, earning a soft giggle from her pink lips. "A sound I would die ten times over to hear..." He murmured, nibbling on her earlobe. Her hands found the nape of his neck, her fingertips finding their way underneath his dress shirt. His skin was burning with passion.

"You wear too many articles of clothing, Erik. Why must you always be sharply dressed?" He shrugged his shoulders, burrowing his heads deeper into her neck, his teeth nipping tenderly at the skin. His hands were underneath the flimsy bra, cupping and teasing at the perfectly sized breasts that his wife was offering.

"I dress nicely, because I can. Would you rather me dress like a slob?" She shook her head, moaning at the sensation his magical hands were giving her. "Come, let us move this elsewhere." She sat up, suddenly frozen. Moving her arms to cover her chest, she reached for her shirt in a panic. "Christine, what is wrong?"

"C-Cameron." She stuttered, her eyes wide with pure heightened fear.

"My love, I would much prefer that as we move into our love making, that you do not mention your ex-lover's-"

"NO, CAMERON!" She shouted, pointing at the front door. She quickly pulled her shirt over her head, scooting into the far corner of the couch. Her body was trembling, shaking as he had never seen it.

Erik had forgotten that he had a computer screen put in at the front door. It allowed anyone inside the penthouse to view everything that went on outside of the penthouse. There a man about five foot ten stood at the front desk, his build was large, muscular. Erik then knew where Parker got his blond hair from as Cameron screamed at the front desk attendant in a drunken stupor.

"Christine, I need you to go hide in Parker's room. Do not make a sound. I will take care of him. I promise, okay?" Erik cupped her pale face, her lips quivering in horror. "Angel, please I need you to go into his room and lock the door. Angel, please... Do this for _our_ son." Christine's expression softened as she shakily rose to her feet.

That was the first time he had called Parker _their _son. With a nervous nod, Christine pulled Erik in for a long kiss, never wanting to part. Truly, she felt dizzy when they did. She rushed to Parker's room, locking the door behind her. Parker had emerged from his bath by then, clad in his pajamas. He immediately sensed that his mother was frightened. Cowering in the corner like a child, Parker approached his mother silently.

"Mother?" Christine lifted her finger to her lips, laying her hands down. Parker nodded in understanding as he burrowed into his mother, his heart racing. The only thing heard was the sound of her heavy breathing, her tender whimpers, and his confused thoughts that only he could hear. He sat in silence beside his mother as she closed her eyes, clutching to her son as tightly as she could. She would die before anyone would lay a hand on her son.

"WHERE IS SHE?! LET ME AT THE BITCH!" Cameron screamed in the lobby of the apartment building. He was drunk. Erik could smell it from continents away as he stepped out of the elevator. Adjusting his vest and tie, he approached the drunkard, his eyes narrowing at the rambunctious overgrown baby.

"May I help you?" Erik calmly asked, standing a good five feet away from Cameron.

"You... You took her away from me! You took my son _and_ my girlfriend! Where are they?!" He yelled, beer bottle in hand.

"They were never yours to take to begin with, Mr. Lewis." Cameron stumbled forward, grabbing Erik by the collar, the stench of alcohol seeping down Erik's throat. "I suggest you take your hands off of me before you lose your hands, Mr. Lewis."

"Is that a threat?!" Cameron narrowed his eyes, shattering the beer bottle of Erik's head, pushing Erik to the floor with force. Erik hit the floor, grumbling some Italian curse words as he saw Cameron get into the elevator.

"Stop that man! Stop him!" Erik cried out, trying to stand. He felt dizzy, like the room was spinning. He stood up finally, tripping over his feet. Suddenly two hands caught his arms.

"Mr. Deslow, can you hear me? Mr. Deslow?" Garrett's voice pierced Erik's head as a migraine began to spring, alerting Erik that his head was bleeding.

"Go to Christine!" Erik leaned against the nearest chair, shaking his head. "Go, now!" He bellowed, pushing Garrett off of him. The blurry figure nodded, running off towards the elevator. Erik groaned and soon, his world was blackened.

"CHRISTINE, CHRISTINE DAAÉ I KNOW YOU'RE IN HERE! I know you're in here, you little whore!" Cameron's slurred words echoed throughout the penthouse as he ran into the vases and decor, shattering them as he searched through the house. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" Cameron slurred once more, locking eyes with the closed door. He grinned to himself, lunging forward at the black door. "WHY IS THIS DOOR LOCKED?! CHRISTINE, YOU BITCH! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!"

Christine flinched, pressing her son to her chest as she shook with terror. Christine's chest heaved as she took sharp breaths, listening to the doorknob jiggle. Cameron's words were jumbled, incoherent as he slammed his body against the door. Parker's expression was flustered, perplexed at his mother's fright. He tried to make sense of it, but Christine just commanded her son to stay silent. Christine stood to her feet, instructing Parker to go under his bed, without a word.

"Please, son... You must hide under there!" She explained in haste, tears streaming down her flushed face.

"Why? Why are you not explaining anything to me?" He demanded, angry at his mother. Cameron continued to lunge at the door, the door beginning to crack from the middle, upwards and downwards. Christine closed her eyes and without a word, she shoved her son under the bed.

"STAY THERE. DO NOT MAKE A SOUND." With a grave expression, Christine stood to her feet once more, her hands trembling as she awaited her fate. With one last thrust, Cameron burrowed through the door, his eyes red with anger. He took slow steps to Christine, his eyes narrowed on the girl. Christine was breathing heavily as she continued crying uncontrollably, wondering where Erik was. She knew that he would not protect her. She knew it was too could to be true.

"Trying to hide from me, huh slut?!" Cameron yelled as the back of his hand met Christine's cheek, instantly reddening her pale skin. Christine's body flew to the wall on the sudden impact, her side aching immensely. "Think you can run from me, whore..." He shouted, grabbing the motionless girl by the wrists, Christine flinching away from his stench.

"I would not dare move again, Mr. Lewis." Erik's voice beckoned calmly from the what used-to-be doorway. Erik knew that anything could set Christine off into another panic attack.

"Erik, it's okay..." Christine murmured, shutting her eyes. Erik was shocked, she was completely submissive in his presence. Erik noticed that Cameron's grip was cutting on the circulation to Christine's hands, making her fingertips purple. "Just go... I don't want you to get hurt..." She mumbled again, her expression frightened to her core.

"Where's the boy, you bitch?" Cameron seethed, causing Christine to flinch backwards, hitting her head on the wall behind her. She groaned in pain, keeping her eyes closed. "What? Now, you can't speak?" Another strike to her cheek. Cameron laughed, slamming Christine's already fragile body against the wall. As Cameron continually badgered Christine, Erik used the opportunity to sneak Parker out of the room, quick as a mouse.

"Go downstairs and get the police. I am going to get your mother." Parker nodded, scared and shaking. He slowly backed away, confused out of his mind. Erik grabbed his hand, turning the boy around as fast as he could. Bringing his face to his, he placed a comforting kiss onto the boy's forehead. "I love you and I will keep you safe. I promise." Erik smiled, squeezing the boy's hands.

"I love you too, dad." Erik noted their first exchange of kind words in five months, rushing back to the bedroom where Cameron held Christine captive.

The sight enraged Erik. Christine was pinned to the bed, stripped of her jeans, squirming underneath the fiend's grip. Erik could not yet tell if forced intercourse had occurred. He did not want to think about it. Without thinking another repulsive thought such as that, Erik threw Cameron down to the ground, his fist meeting the drunkard's jaw in a senseless and ruthless beating. Being much taller that him, Erik had tackled him into the corner of the room, giving him the consequences he deserved. Cameron fought back, pushing Erik into the mirror, shattering the glass. Christine was shouting for them to stop, her cries becoming louder and louder. Erik knew that she was going to into a panic attack as soon as she started yelling.

"STOP IT! STOP, PLEASE! STOP, MY EARS! STOP, STOP, STOP!" Christine shrieked, gathering herself in a ball on the bed, her sobbing almost louder than the ruckus the two men were causing. As if the gods were finally on Erik's side, the police came through the elevator doors and took hold of the situation, allowing Erik to rush to Christine's side. "LET GO OF ME! YOU'RE MEAN! GET AWAY FROM ME!" She was kicking again, her cheeks bruised from Cameron's beating. Erik was not too badly battered from his fight, he also was much stronger than Christine. Grabbing her wrists, he lifted them above her head with one strong hand. "LET GO! STOP YELLING AT ME!"

"I am not yelling at you, Christine." He stated firmly, his eyes never breaking from ears. "Listen to me right now, you are not in your old home. You are with Erik. Do you remember Erik? He has never hurt you. You need to breathe, Christine. Can you breathe for me?" Erik's voice was melodic. Christine's body thrashed beneath his grasp, stubborn to listen.

"NO! STOP IT! GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU ARE GOING TO TAKE MY SON!" She shouted, her breathing shallow and rapid. Erik sighed, grabbing her chin. Forcing her gaze into his golden eyes, her eyes were bright, frightened beyond compare. He frowned at the bruises and swelling on her face, secretly damning that drunkard to hell for laying a hand on his wife.

"Christine Austen, listen to me right now. You are married to Erik, Erik Deslow. You and your son are very happy, okay? Erik has never laid a hand on you, nor will he ever. You will calm down your breathing right now. I am trying to help you. I do not like being forceful, but you leave me no choice. Would you like me to sedate you? I will if I have to. Please, make this easier on the both of us and calm yourself down. Erik would like for you to calm down. Please... Do this for Erik. Erik loves you dearly, Christine. Do this for your Erik... _Christine, Christine_..." He sang, filling the room in a harmonious mystification. Erik was still, unmoving as he tenderly let Christine's limp body fall into his arms. No, she was not in shock. She was coherent, her breathing steady, her body temperature normal. As if she was under a spell, her eyes remained blinking at a languid speed, her body like a rag doll. Erik was most perplexed at her state of being. Picking up her body, he tried gently caressing her awake, but to no avail she remained hypnotized.

"Mr. Destler?" A man's voice interrupted Erik's inspection. Erik turned towards the police officer, holding up a finger in hesitation. Laying Christine down on Parker's bed, he pulled the blanket over her bare legs. Erik placed a quick kiss on her cheek, earning a quiet moan from her lips. Startled by her response, Erik inhaled sharply before returning to the police officer.

"Yes?" Erik shut the door behind him, wary to Christine's body behind the door. "Have you detained Mr. Lewis?"

"Yes, sir. He got taken in on account for attempted rape, assault, breaking and entering, and a DUI." Erik nodded approvingly, adjusting his mask. "We will need you and your family to come down to the precinct, though."

"What? Why?" Erik was taken aback, his expression surprised to say the least.

"We will need your statements. Mr. Lewis wants to testify against you, sir-"

"He has nothing to testify against!" Erik outburst, throwing his hands up in the air. He was incensed as he balled his hands into fists. "What could he _possibly _testify against my family with, Officer Firmin?"

"Uh..." The stout officer scratched his neck, taking out his notepad. "Uh, it says..." Flipping through the notepad, he finally landed on the page needed, truly resting Erik's patience. "Mr. Cameron Lewis would like to fight for custody of his biological son, Parker James Lewis-"

"Deslow! PARKER JAMES DESLOW. _He_ is a Deslow now, by marriage, by law, and by God!" Erik felt like punching the imbecilic officer in the face. "My family will _absolutely _not testify against that drunkard. You can tell him to shove it where the son does not shine, Officer Firmin. My son is deaf, Mr. Lewis does not have the capability of taking care of a deaf child. He does not know American Sign Language. He does not know his medical records, his medical needs, and I bet you Officer, that he does not even know that his _own _son is deaf! Do me a favor and tell Mr. Lewis that instead of testifying, my wife and I will be filing a restraining order against him, maybe then he will learn that he is no longer welcome in our presence." Erik turned on his heel, disgusted with Cameron's pleas. Cameron did not deserve to be a father, a husband, hell - he did not deserve to live! Erik waved a hand off to the officer with a final remark before opening the door, to rescue his Christine. "In my experience with drunkards such as him, they _never_ learn their lessons, Officer Firmin."

Christine was awake, in a mindless state. She was aware of Erik's entry, her eyes following him everywhere he went, every move he made. He knelt beside her, stroking her tangled hair. He wondered what he did to put her in such an incantation. Her pulse was strong, her eyes illuminated by the green irises dilated by the desires that conjured in her stomach. He pressed his thumb to her cheeks, earning the same whimper she had emitted moments ago. Erik wondered how far he dare go and how far he could dare to go before she would stop him. Surely, she would stop him? Erik paused, leaning forward. He pressed his swelled lips against her neck, brushing her flesh just barely enough for her skin to tingle.

"Erik..." She whimpered, her hands grasping the sheets beneath her. He had hardly touched her. Would he venture farther? He stopped momentarily, picked her up in the blankets, remembering that that bastard tore her jeans off in a frenzy. He carried her with ease across the hardwood floors, placing her on their shared beds, the red satin sheets engulfing her body. With a smile, he traced her collarbone with his fingers, earning a more than sensual groan from his beloved. "Erik..." She whispered, tensing underneath his touched. He coughed slightly, not knowing what to do next.

"I will be right back, Angel." She did not reply, she was in bliss. He escaped their bedroom, looking for Parker.

He pressed a button on the wall next to the fireplace that flashed numerous lights in parts of the house, signaling that Parker was needed. Red was for emergencies and green was for a normal need. Erik design the light fixtures to coordinate with each room, that way if someone was resting in a room, the lights would not go off in that room. There were other colors that signaled things like meals and guests, but at the moment, Erik just needed to locate his son. Pressing the purple button, Erik signaled that he needed to know where Parker was. Moments later, purple lights flashed back to Erik from Parker's game room. Erik knew that Parker would be busy for awhile. With a simple yellow light, Parker looked up and knew that Erik needed to work and could not be bothered. Suddenly, the blue light went off and Parker knew that his mother was resting. After the day she had, Parker thought she would be resting for a _very _long time. He did not quite understand who the mean man was and why he had to hide under the bed, but maybe he did not want to understand. His father kept him safe, his father loved him. His mother loved him and he loved her. That was all that matter to Parker. He smiled to himself as he grabbed the giant red Lego, finishing off his creation, only to move on to the next one with an even bigger smile.

"Christine..." Erik spoke softly to the passive girl, removing his shoes, and sliding next to her. She sluggishly turned to face him as if her body weight five times her actual weight. He moved a piece of hair from her face, bringing his lips to hers in a passionate fever. She met his lips with an equivocated kiss. As he swiped his tongue to her luscious bottom lip, she did the same, only she moved onto his lap. She had never been so forward.

"Erik..." She purred into his ear, her hips rolling into his as he groaned inexplicably, grinding his fingertips into her sides. She was remaining surprisingly calm, her bruises not bothering her anymore.

"What do you want me to do, Angel?" He smiled against her collarbone, moving her thick hair to the opposite side. She rolled her hips again, her tongue fighting for dominance in a heated duel. She removed his tie, quickly, then his tie and his vest. The buttons of his shirt flew everywhere as she viciously tore at his fabric, she was never this forceful. Erik laughed, slightly scared at this new Christine. Her eyes were dark with lust, heightened with desire. She dragged her nails down his chest, his back arching in response.

"Erik..." She repeated, relentlessly as she met his muscular chest with her lascivious lips. He wondered why she was not saying anything else, usually she was somewhat talkative. He enjoyed listening to her giggle as his fingertips would graze her sides. This time, he felt odd. She was not herself. "Erik..." Slowly, he pulled her body up, looking her in the eyes. Placing an innocent kiss on her nose, he tested the results. "Erik..." She moaned, her hands fleeing to her _own _sex. She had never touched herself in front of him.

"_Mon Dieu..." _Erik breathed out as his eyes bulged out of his head. She leaned back on her knees, her back arched. She was still resting on his lap as her hand worked meticulously through the thin fabric that provided a flimsy barricade between the both of them. She was panting.

"Erik..." Her eyes were still open, this was not right. Though, he wished it to be.

"Christine!" He yelled as she completely ignored him. She continued to moved inside herself, her thumb working wonders. Erik was torn between watching his wife pleasure herself and finding a way to snap her out of this deviled hex.

"Erik..." She took one final breath, climaxing on her fingers. She fell back on top of Erik's legs, passed out completely. Erik quickly moved her to the side of the bed, his mind going a thousand different directions. He checked her pulse, barely there! He ripped through the drawers, grabbing the first aid kit he bought. He took the thermometer and stuck in gently in her ear as she laid lifeless on the bed.

"103... No!" He threw the thermometer back into the box and took the sphygmomanometer out, wrapping it rapidly around Christine's arm, attaching it to the automated blood pressure machine. He waited impatiently as it beeped slowly to the finish line. "86 over 62 - GODDAMNIT!"

He practically tore her arm off trying to get the sphygmomanometer removed. He rushed to the closet and quickly changed her clothes. No, he could not have the doctor's checking her after... _that_. He quickly grabbed a new dress shirt, buttoning it to the third button from the top. He did not have time to be bothered with such formalities, like a tie and a vest! Throwing the dirtied clothes in the basket, he pulled his phone out and dialed the phone number of the new doctor.

"ANSWER YOUR PHONE!" Christine was still motionless as Erik screamed into the phone. No, he would not give in to calling that idiotic Doctor Charter. "This is New York Clinic Medical, we are not in right now, but if you leave your-" Erik was on his way to his _own _mental break down. This was not good. He prayed a silent prayer in what language, he did not even know at this point - while he slowly dialed the devil's phone number. "Doctor Charter, it is Erik. Erik Deslow. Yes, I know. I am sorry. Christine needs you. Yes, I understand that I threatened you and that I punched you. I am sorry, again. Please, you have to come! Do not come for me. Come for Christine. She has a fever of 103 and a very low blood pressure. She is passed out and... Something very odd happened. I cannot discuss it over the phone. Please, just come here." Erik waited, pressing a hand to Christine's forehead. She was getting hotter. "RAOUL, PLEASE. I WILL DO ANYTHING, PLEASE. Please... I love her..." Erik's was on the verge of tears, his hands shaking as he moved Christine into a more comfortable position. Soon, Erik sighed of relief, knowing that Doctor Charter was truly a good man. "I will see you in fifteen minutes. Thank you, truly."

The lights began to flash, signaling that Parker needed something. Erik sighed, pressing a kiss to Christine's hot forehead. Rushing out to the living room, Parker asked what was for dinner. Erik explained that his mom was very sick and that he needed to wait for Doctor Raoul to come, then he would get Parker dinner. Parker asked about his mother and Erik did not know what to say. What was he supposed to say to the five year old? '_Your mother was possessed by the Roman sex god called Venus, sometimes called Aphrodite in the Greek. After vigorously pleasuring herself relentlessly in front of your father, she then she passed out after climaxing on herself. At first thought, your father thought she had just tired herself out, but then he realized the issue. She is now unconscious, barely breathing and has a very high fever, still climbing. Now son, what would like for dinner?' _Erik shook the thought, silently laughing to himself. Leaning down to the young boy's eye level. He smiled softly and kissed the boy on the cheek.

"Your mother will be alright. We are waiting for the doctor to arrive. Will you press the green button when he is here?" Parker smiled widely, enjoying the affection he was getting from his father. Obliging happily, Parker went to the easel that his father got him next to the TV, with a clear view of the elevator doors. Erik went back into the bedroom, Christine still unconscious on the bed. Erik dampened a cloth, walking over to the bed where his Sleeping Beauty lay. With a sigh, Erik began to pick up all the buttons that had flown about in her rigorous spell. Did he put her under it? Was he dreaming of it? Was it Cameron? Erik could not come up with a valid answer. He was restless. He paced around the bedroom, suddenly realizing who would know the answer. Pulling out his phone, he sat on the edge of the bed, placing the cloth on her forehead.

"Nadir, my brother, I have the most unusual question for you." Erik began, his voice uneasy.

"We have shared more unsettling stories, I fear not of your topic of discussion. What is it, my friend?" Erik took a deep breath, glancing down at his pale wife.

"Do you believe in hexes or spells? Incantations, if you may." Erik proceeded to run his fingertips up and down Christine's burning flesh, tenderly hoping somewhere in her mind she knew that he was there, always beside her.

"I do very much so, my friend. Why do ask such a thing? Have you been dabbling in black magic again?" Erik let out an airy chuckle. Oh, if only it was that simple.

"No, my brother. I just feel as though Christine... I think Christine... Well, today she was... It might have been her... Possibly, It could have been-"

"Did she seem as if she was under a spell?" Nadir interrupted Erik's nonsensical gibberish, understanding that he was very confused.

"Yes. She only was saying my name and her body went limp immediately. She was going into a panic attack. I spoke to her firmly, that is how I got her to calm down the last time. As soon as I finished, she fell into my arms like a rag doll! Nadir, I have never seen anything like it. She did not go into shock, though. She was aware of her surroundings, yet she only responded to me... Well..." Erik coughed, trying to think of a way to explain her actions.

"Well?" Nadir asked, hurrying up the thought process.

"_Sexually." _Erik stated, his cheeks reddening with embarrassment. "My brother, she only responded to me sexually. After she finished, she went unconscious and she began a high fever and her pulse went faint. It was as if she skipped over her panic attack, put a sexual rendezvous in place of it, then maintained the routine of passing out, unconscious afterwards." Erik was flustered, the image of Christine pleasuring herself entering his mind. No! Stop that! "Nadir, it was either something _I _said or something that drunkard of an ex did to her! I have not the slightest of clues!" Nadir nodded to himself, analyzing the situation on his side of the line. Coming to a conclusion, he finally mustered up a response.

"You must try it again tomorrow." Erik's face drained.

"W-What?" He stuttered out, confused.

"Whatever you said to her today, you must say again to her tomorrow - or whenever she recuperates. You have to find out if it was something _you _said or something he _did. _Do you understand me?" Erik groaned, not wanting to put himself in that painfully erotic position again. He felt as though if he went through with making love to his wife, it would not have been making love at all! It would be completely taking advantage of her conscious-subdued state! Yet, his hormones and sex thought differently. He groaned even more at the image of his wife on top of him, doing _that _again. Sighing with dismay, he nodded.

"I understand. I will do it when she is better. My brother, she will just go unconscious once more afterwards. I do not want that to happen!" Had Erik found a way out of the excruciating process?

"What _exactly _did she do before she went unconscious?" Could he really be having this conversation with Nadir? Oh, dear.

"She... She..." Erik paused. He felt incredibly guilty for sharing this with his friend on Christine's behalf, but Nadir was his only friend, his only companion. With a regretful sigh, Erik continued. "She pleasured herself before me, then passed out on top of me." Nadir hummed, scrunching up his face. "Nadir, please do not ever mention to her that I told you this..."

"Believe me brother, I will not be mentioning this to _anyone_._" _With a smile, Nadir stood and leaned against his kitchen counter. "Okay my brother, if it is in fact you that puts her under the hex, you must make love to her and see if she goes unconscious afterwards."

"Are you insane? That is not going to happen!" Erik interjected, standing to his feet in disbelief. "Nadir, no! I cannot do that! No, that is _not_ an option."

"Then you will never know." Erik hated when he was right. Erik hit his forehead an innumerable amount of times against the wall, grumbling Italian curse words. "I speak Italian, you know."

"I am well aware of that fact." Erik seethed, his eyes shut, trying to contain his anger.

"Poor Erik, he must make love to his wife. What a tragic endeavor that is for _poor_ Erik!" Nadir laughed loudly, earning another derogatory Italian word gritted from Erik's mouth. "Call me if anything else happens, my brother. Until then, Erik."

"If that." As if planned, the green lights above Erik began to flash. Erik objected to the thought of that fop under his household as he made his way to the living room. "Doctor Charter, thank you for coming on such short notice." Erik flashed a smile, guiding the doctor to the bedroom.

"This place is much less confusing that the château." Raoul commented as the two men entered the bedroom. Erik nodded simply, bringing a chair up beside the bed for the doctor. "How long as she been like this?"

"Well, she had part of a panic attack about an hour ago, more or less-"

"Part of one?" The doctor pulled out his stethoscope, preparing his kit.

"From her last panic attack two weeks ago, I learned that talking to her firmly calmed her down. I tried that this time... But to no avail, something else resulted." Erik would rather be burned alive before he had to _the _story to this asinine man. Raoul nodded, moving Christine to her back as he pressed the stethoscope to her chest. Erik rolled his eyes.

"What resulted?" Erik was fuming.

"As I finished my speech about calming down, she fell limp into my body. It was as if something in my speech - a specific word, perhaps - caused her brain to switch her nerves to... Lifeless. She then went into a trance, she could only repeat my name and she was very needy for my touch." Raoul took out his thermometer, nodding along to Erik's story.

"Sounds like something out of a fairy tale to me. It's weird, don't you think?" I furrowed my eyebrows, stepping closer to the idiot. "103..." He mumbled to himself. Yes, you fop. I _already_ checked it.

"What is weird, you say?" I was growing impatient, watching no progress take place.

"One word can so easily set her _off_ into a panic, as it can so easily set her _into_ a limp, mindless state." The doctor shrugged, taking out his puny blood pressure meter. Wrapping it around her arm, he continued nodding along. "It's like she was conditioned to do certain things when certain words were said." Erik's head jerked towards his direction as he spoke finally, some words of intelligence. Erik took his seat at the foot of the bed, glancing at Christine. "92 over 75. It's getting stronger."

"What do mean by conditioning?" I asked, making note of her blood pressure. The doctor turned towards me, making a nonchalant shrug.

"I don't know, I mean... It's possible that in her childhood, she could have been trained to yell and scream at a certain word... Or whenever someone makes a certain threatening movement or gesture, it reminds her of past abuse. I ruled it PTSD. That's your best bet, for her panic attacks. As for her body going limp when you were talking to her... That sounds like conditioning of some sort. Did she ever talk about her past sexual partners?" I shook my head, trying to think of all the information she has relayed to me in the past five months.

"She has only told me of Cameron. He gave her those bruises." The doctor nodded, examining them. "Could you check the rest of her body? The bastard may have ruined her back again." The doctor moved her onto her side, feeling her back. He smiled softly, placing her back down flat.

"They bruises aren't bad and nothing is broken of hers. Her back is fine. She'll be fine. She should be awake soon. Her fever is stagnant, that means it won't be too much of a hassle. It'll take a couple of days to get it down, but it will eventually lower. If it doesn't..." The doctor stood, sighing to himself. "If the fever doesn't lower in the next 48 hours, please call me again. If she doesn't awaken or anything else happens, please call me. Christine is very delicate... The slightest glance could throw her into a frenzy. I just want her to be happy, Erik. I really mean no harm, I am sorry if you got the wrong impression."

Erik smiled truly at the doctor, shaking his hand in respect. Leading him out to the living room, they were met by the young boy. Erik taught the doctor how to sign greetings and goodbyes, just for future reference. Parker was excited to see that he made a new friend. After the doctor departed, Erik made Parker some grilled chicken and vegetables, sitting with him through dinner. They sat silently, trying to register through the day's events. Parker was thankful for his father, his _real _father. He knew that the man who hit his mother claimed to be his dad, but the man who bore the mask - the man who gave up everything for him and his mother - that man was his true father. He would do anything for the masked man, as the masked man would do anything for the deaf boy. After dinner, Erik tucked Parker in the guest room, since his room had no door. Making sure he felt safe and secure, Erik kissed Parker on the forehead, exchanging kind words of adoration. Erik locked the door behind him, placing the key in his pocket. Locking all the doors, he retreated to his haven where his wife lay.

Erik was happy and relieved to remove the mask finally. The cool air hitting it, sending chills down his spine. Erik took a quick shower, going through the turn of events, every detail... Every moment. He whimpered at the thought of his wife dragging her nails against his chest, her hands down her own torso. He absolutely did _not _want to take Nadir's instruction, but so help him Allah, he would. He sighed deeply, stepping out of the shower. Drying himself off, he put on a pair of pajama pants and climbed into bed, sitting beside his Christine. Though his wife was barely conscious, he took her vitals once more. She showed improvement in her blood pressure, but her fever was still at a constant 103 degrees. Placing all the equipment on the bed stand, he turned the light off and rested on top of the covers. He never was one for beneath the sheets. Bringing his wife's limp body, he held her close, making sure she knew that he would guard her, no matter what state she was in - conscious or unconscious. Suddenly, she shifted into his body ever-so-slightly. Erik's eyes shot open, looking down upon her repositioning. Her body had melded into his, her arm flinging over his chest (which he had done). Her chest and torso though, were pressed much closer to his side, the heat of her body emanating onto him. Was she conscious, was she aware? Oh, Christine... Erik's left arm snaked around Christine's shoulder, leaning his head against hers. His right arm intertwined with hers, his hand fingers making small circles on her fiery flesh.

"Mmmmmm..." Was she dreaming? Erik's mind was playing tricks on him, surely! Erik continued to stroke tiny shapes on her skin, earning no such luck. With a soft exhale, he accepted her response and soon drifted off into sleep.

"Erik..." Did he just say his own name? Erik's eyes slowly opened, Christine had not moved. Erik had not moved either. "Erik..." He heard again.

"Christine?" He whispered into the air. "Christine, are you awake?" Erik asked, lifting Christine's unconscious body to his face. Turning on the light, he saw that her eyes were closed and her mouth was visibly shut. "Christine, whatever you are doing, it is not time to play games!" He whispered in a half shout. Suddenly, his suspicions were cut short as he sat completely floored, astonished, stunned, and truly terrified. His eyes widened as he stood to his feet, turning on the lamp, protecting his wife. His jaw clenched as he blinked numerously, hoping to Allah, that this was truly just a nightmare. With a dry throat and a shaky hand, he reached out his and stammered a word he had not spoken in over thirteen years.

"A-Alora?"

* * *

**A/N: **

**wow! A 7k Word chapter! You guys are lucky! Hehe, just kidding. I love you all so much! I was at the doctors fo and a half hours today. That is how I got so much done! i have six doctor's appointments next week, too! anyway, next THURSDAY I will be going into pain treatment. They shove five inch needles into my head and then I giggle uncontrollably for 15 minutes, then sleep for the next like seven hours straight! as much as I would _LOVE_ to update while drugged (because why not), sadly, next Thursday I will have to take a rain check! ): so sad. ok! that is all. again, sorry for the typos. I type this on my phone, because of my lack of laptop. auto correct tends to get away from me... okay! bye bye!  
**

**read & review? PRETTY PLEASE! I WILL UPDATE MORE IF YOU REVIEW?! is that a bribe? Why yes it is... I'll even mention you if you review... hehehehehehe. ok it's like late and I took my meds, so I'm really drowsy... don't mind meeeeeeeee. **

**i love you all! **

*** A**


	14. Chapter 14

**Buy It, Use It, Break It, Fix It**

**Here is a break from all the sadness and tension. **

**Enjoy my Dialers.**

* * *

Christine recuperated in the next few days, having no recollection of what she had done in front of her husband. The last thing she recalled was seeing Cameron laying on top of her, trying to kiss her. She had asked Erik what had happened with Cameron after he attempted to force sex on her, but Erik kept telling her that it was _inconsequential._ Erik did not want her to go into to panic, no that was the last thing she needed. Erik simply asked Christine to take of Parker while he worked on the new German opera he was offered to debated for a long while on Nadir's advice, finally deciding against it. Erik could not put his wife through that. To be perfectly honest, he could not put _himself _through that. It was painful on all levels. He wanted to forget it ever happened and to his surprise, Christine completely obeyed. Cameron Lewis for the next week continually harassed Erik's family for the custody battle, but Erik simply ignored his idiotic pleas. Christine knew nothing of Cameron's pleas, but maybe it was best that she did not know. Parker and Erik became closer as Parker realized what and who his biological father was. Parker did not want to get involved with Cameron. As for Erik's strange encounter with Alora, he was imagining it. She said so herself, which was the strangest part. For the next week, Erik could not shake the feeling that maybe it was not a dream. He woke up the following morning and his late wife was nowhere to be found. Was he on his way to insanity? No, Erik had no time for these thoughts. Christine was his number one priority. Always, Christine... Always.

_One Week Ago_

"A-Alora?" Erik's voice croaked out, his face drained of all color. The figure nodded, not saying another word.

"Erik..." The voice rang again, the familiar tone shocking Erik down to his toes. He could not believe what he was seeing! Erik reached to rub his eyes, to rid himself of this horrible nightmare, but the figure still remained in front of him. "Why do you wish to remove me from your sight?" The thick Italian accent echoed through the room.

"Y-you are s-supposed to be d-dead!" Erik shouted, trying not to disturb his incoherent wife. He ran an exasperated hand through his thin strands, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Of course I am passed, I am but a dream. I have missed you, Erik." The figure began fading into the darkness, just as Christine began to stir. "Your wife is very sick."

"S-She is f-fragile..." Erik corrected the ghost. "Why a-are you here?" He breathed out, completely stupefied.

"I thought it was fun, your wife's wanton acts today." Erik stumbled backwards into the bed, shaking his head.

"Stop it! Y-you aren't real!" Once again, Christine stirred and the apparition faded more. "Get away from us!"

* * *

_The Present_

Christine had planned a surprise romantic evening for herself and her husband. With Erik at the studio downtown, she had the penthouse to herself to tidy up and romanticize to the perfect setting. Parker had asked to go out with his Aunt Meg. There was a Georgia O'Keeffe exhibit at The Met and Erik _somehow _got two tickets for a private tour. He had intended to take Parker himself, but there was a strict deadline for a new score. He had been working vigorously for hours on end for the past two weeks, trying his hardest to perfect his first German opera, something that he always wished he would do. With the presented opportunity, he had been overworking himself with twelve hour work days, barely any food or sleep, as well as taking care of his family to the best of his ability. He was practically incoherent by the time he would get home. In polar opposition, Christine was feeling better than ever and she had full intentions of spreading her new found joy with her husband, whether he found it inconsequential or not.

"How much longer are you going to be, Erik?" Christine sighed, taking off her high heels. Erik sounded exhausted. "An hour? Two hours, Erik?" Christine took out her tight ponytail, the pounding headache finally finding relief.

"I do not know. I am sorry, my Angel. Did you have dinner?" Christine stared down at the fully set table. There sat dinner, set for two. The plates of food were now cold and salad had gone soggy. She felt like crying, the dinner looked so pathetic. "Christine?" Blowing out the candles, Christine shook her head and turned on her bare heels. "What was that sound? Christine, are you alright?" Zipping her dress down, she pulled it over her head and threw it into the dirty clothes basket.

"Yeah, sorry... I wasn't that hungry tonight. I'm going to go to bed, okay?" Erik sighed greatly, clenching his jaw. He knew _that_ tone. Something was bothering her, something that was his fault. "Goodnight, Erik. I love you." _Click_.

Erik growled, throwing his phone across the studio, hitting the damned first bassoon. Erik's thoughts were _tangling_ themselves in German, _cursing_ in Italian, _thinking_ in English, _arguing _with himself in Sign Language, and _trying_ to sort themselves in French. Erik could not bare another note, melody, or tune. The sight of his piano made him nauseous, which was a rarity. Begrudgingly, Erik grabbed his now-shattered phone and shoved it into his pocket. He needed to get sleep or food. Something. He needed to see Christine. Kiss her, hold her... Feel her skin against his, her lips against his skin. It had been so long since he kissed her. _Weeks. _He felt horrible, sick to his stomach. _Mon Dieu.  
_

Christine took a quick shower, slipping into a large blue t-shirt - one of Erik's. She loved the smell of his shirts. Trying to shake the failed day off, she climbed into the cold sheets and pulled the black comforter up to her neck, burrowing herself into the warmth. Silently cursing to herself, she grabbed her phone off of the bed stand and rapidly dialed her husband.

"Christine, I thought you went to sleep. Is something wrong?" Erik yawned as he sat in the back of Garrett's car.

"Just don't forget to pick up Parker from Meg's. He should be asleep by now, seeing that it's almost..." Christine checked her phone. "Fuck, it's almost two Erik. What are you _still_ doing at the studio?" Christine's annoyance shone through as she leaned back onto the pillows.

"I just left, Christine. I will be home soon. I will get Parker. Just go to sleep and I will be there soon. I love you." Erik did not receive an answer, just another click.

Erik knew that his long hours were frustrating for Christine. She had no problem taking care of Parker, it was taking care of herself that was the problem. She was anxious, too anxious without Erik. He did not allow her to see that stupid Doctor Charter without himself being present. It was ridiculous to her, really. Of course, she did not know the reason behind the vendetta against Raoul that Erik had, she just thought she was getting healthier. Erik knew better. Erik knew that that imbecile could not control his hormones, well who could? Christine is beautiful... stunning... Yet, Christine was growing self-destructive and Erik knew that. Erik knew better than to work until two in the morning.

"E-Erik? It's fucking two in the morning! Why didn't you just come by in the morning?" Meg questioned, rubbing her eyes as she let the masked man into her apartment.

"Christine requested that I pick him up on my way home from the studio. Is he asleep?" Meg nodded, leading Erik into the living room. Parker's blond tresses fell over his forehead as he slept soundly on the couch, his Spider-Man blanket tucked carefully beneath him. "Thank you, Meg. I am sorry to have awoken you."

"It's fine. Hey... Um... How is Christine doing? Any better?" Erik scooped his son into his arms, the sad reality of his wife's condition appearing in his golden eyes. "Oh." Meg breathed out, giving an apologetic smile.

"She is a fighter, she will make it through whatever she is battling inside her mind. I know it." Meg agreed, pressing a kiss to Parker's forehead. "Goodnight, Meg."

Erik made it home safely, putting Parker into his room. Thankfully, it did not take long for the door to be replaced. After saying his hushed words of adoration, Erik made his way to the kitchen. He was absolutely famished. Turning on the kitchen light, his heart stopped, dropping to his stomach. A table set for two, the food completely cold and dry. Grabbing the tiny Post-It note on the edge of the mahogany table, Erik's jaw quivered with an inexplicable and incorrigible heart ache.

"_Happy Six Month Anniversary, Maestro._" Erik mumbled underneath his shallow breaths, shutting his eyes. "_Your Angel, Christine._" Erik set the note down, knowing that he had to clean up the mess he made, literally and figuratively.

With a heavy heart, Erik put all the food into containers and into the refrigerator. The salad had gone bad from sitting out for too long. She had made his favorite, Roquefort Salad. A traditional French salad with an entrée of Steak Au Poivre. Erik did not have much of an appetite after cleaning up the meal. Pouring himself a glass of wine, Erik took a seat at the dining table, trying to conjure up a way to make up his mistake to Christine. She did not enjoy getting gifts, although he loved giving them. He thought about jewelry, but she had mentioned that she was never a girl to delve into the, _'finer things of life._' Erik sighed, taking a sip of wine. With another thought, it was quickly shot down by Christine's voice echoing in his head._ 'No, I don't like getting lingerie. Thanks for the thought, Maestro.'_ Erik smiled widely as the sound of Christine's giggling filled his ears. Erik tapped his finger on the table, almost vomiting at the thought of composing something for his wife. He would not even know what language to put it in at this point! No, not another song. He sat another moment, finally jumping to his feet with excitement. An epiphany had hit him like a wrecking ball as he took the last drop of wine between his swollen lips.

_A honeymoon._

Christine was much too injured to have a proper honeymoon. Erik knew that he was almost done with his score and once he was finished, he would have nothing to do... Nothing he would want to do, but spoil his wife! Yes, a honey moon! A proper honeymoon as husband and wife! That is what he shall give her! Erik smiled in ecstasy, practically skipping towards the bedroom. Taking a short shower, he put on his pajama pants and slipped into bed, pulling his wife's body to his chest. With a brush of his lips against her warm flesh of her neck, she hummed slightly, moving into the concave of his body that she fit into perfectly.

"You're finally home..." She mumbled, bringing his arm over her waist. Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, his hand drifted down to her warm thighs, drawing small circles on the exposed flesh.

"I promised you I would come home." Erik smiled against her neck, feeling lethargic as he pulled her closer to his chest, if that was even possible. "I am sorry I missed dinner. You made my favorite meal." She remained silent, holding back harsh tears that wanted to force themselves down her cheeks. "I lost track of time at the studio... I just... I am truly sorry, Christine. I have been a horrible husband these past weeks and I promise that- Christine, are you crying?" Christine vigorously shook her head, burying her face into her pillow. Erik sat up, turning on his lamp. Christine was curled up into a ball, covering her face with her arms.

"I'm f-fine." She stuttered out, her shoulders trembling from her crying.

"Christine... I did not mean to... I... Oh, Christine..." Erik gathered the tiny girl into his arms like a child, moving her wavy hair out her face. Her face was red as the tears poured from her eyes. "Christine, please do not cry..." Erik whispered, completely heart broken at the sight that occupied his arms. She was wearing his blue shirt. The one she gave him for Christmas.

_'You need to dress more casually, Erik.' Christine spoke softly as they opened their gifts together in their room, they enjoyed the privacy on the early Christmas morning._

_'A business man, a composer-' _

_'And a connoisseur of art and wine does not want to dress like a slob! Yes, I understand that, Erik. It's all very nice.' Erik was taken aback as he opened the other gifts. Jeans and more shirts. 'I like when you wear jeans, Erik. It...' _

_'It what?' Erik asked curiously, looking at the jeans with indifference. _

_'It turns me on, Erik... When you wear t-shirts and jeans... I just really like them on you. You wear them well. I mean, yeah... I like when you wear your vests and ties, but there's just something about MY man in a t-shirt and jeans that really makes me want to take the clothes off of you...' Christine had furiously blushed, her face buried beneath her hands. Erik finally understood the overload of casual clothes. With a nod, he placed the box of clothes aside, making a note to buy more jeans and t-shirt things. Christine finally got to her senses and leaned over, her red lace panties peeking out from underneath Erik's black dress shirt. Erik stared at his wife, groaning in aggravation as she fished for something beneath the bed. Holding a white box tied with black ribbon in the air, she flipped her hair back and handed it to her husband. 'Open it, Erik...' She winked and bit her lip. __  
_

_'You got me too many presents, mon amour.' She shook her head, pressing the present into his stomach. 'Okay, okay...' He smiled widely, pulling at the ribbon. Putting the ribbon around her wrist and tying it neatly, he opened the box. His eyes widened at the sight. 'Holy Fuck...' _

_'Did you just say the F word?' Christine breathed out, incredulously as she watched her husband hold up the skimpy lace teddy. It was black, revealing - oh, so revealing. The see-through lace made Erik light headed just thinking about Christine wearing it. 'Erik?' She called out, snapping her fingers in front of him. He had been unresponsive for about four minutes._

_'I... You... I... Thought... Wear... Do...' Christine smiled widely, grabbing the teddy from him, running off into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Erik sat there, still smack-jawed from the original sight of the teddy. Where did she even get that? Are there stores that actually sell clothes that revealing? If you can call that clothing... Erik's head was reeling. Moments later, Erik was cleaning the wrapping paper off of the bed, absent-mindedly and completely distracted with the image in his head. His thoughts were interrupted, were they ever._

_'Ohhhh... Maestrrrrrrrrrrro...' His favorite voice purred. A sound he would die ten times over to hear. _

"Y-You forgot a-about m-me..." Her voice was quiet, childlike. The innocent undertone made Erik feel even worse as he pressed her head against his chest, rocking the tremulous woman back and forth. "D-Did I do s-something w-wrong?" No. Never. Erik thought, repeatedly until it physically hurt him.

"No! Christine, you could never do anything wrong. Angel, I love you. This was my fault. Please forgive me, you just forgive me..." Erik cupped her face, her quivering lips and shut eyes giving Erik a fright. "Christine, I love you." Silence. Moments passed by where Christine sat on his lap, looking into his golden irises, just searching for the truth. Erik would sit there as long as she needed until she found what she was looking for, truly. With an long exhale, she wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and pressed her salty lips on beneath his ear.

"I love you too, Maestro." Erik's heart swelled, tightening his hold on his wife's waist as he snaked his arms around her body. Now, he felt like crying. Her voice was so pure, so honest. As she finally laid back down, she coddled herself back into his protective hold, her back against his strong chest. Wrapping his arms infinitely around her, she drifted soon off to sleep, with a smile on her face. Erik had never seen someone actually fall asleep with a smile on their face, but he had no complaints. No, none whatsoever.

The next morning was much better. Erik arose at dawn, like he always did. He swore to Christine that this was his last day at the studio and that he had a surprise for her at the end of the day. Christine was excited all day as she kept to her schedule of cleaning the house and doing her yoga. Erik figured out that she did better with a schedule, rather than wander around like a headless chicken. Genevieve had suggested yoga to calm her down, it was something she could do at home and it was something she did not need Erik around to do. Christine liked Genevieve and thought she was very kind. Genevieve thought that Christine was very unique, she felt like a mother to Christine, and honestly she had no problem with that. Christine always felt lonely once she sent Parker off to school and Erik went to work. Usually, she would read a book or watch TV, but today was an unusual day. She did not feel like doing either. With a sigh, she picked up her phone and dialed a familiar number, just hoping they would pick up their phone.

"Hello?" The deep voice answered, completely surprised, shocked, and quite honestly, terrified for their life.

"Hi, Raoul. It's Christine." Raoul was sitting in his office, scared out of his skin.

"C-Christine, uh, h-hey. Are you o-okay? Is something w-wrong?" Christine was entirely and totally confused. She had not heard a stutter like that since she first talked to Erik. She smiled at the memory.

"No... Is something wrong with you?" Raoul let out a nervous chuckle, running a hand through his hair.

"How d-did you g-get my cell phone n-number?" Christine pondered for a moment. How _did_ she get his number? Right! Christine smiled to herself, plopping down on the couch.

"You gave it to me at my wedding." Raoul's eyes widened, checking his watch. He was still on his lunch break. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I just am very surprised t-that you are calling m-me right now." Raoul squeaked out, trying to figure how she got Erik's permission to call him.

"Why?" Christine asked slowly, pulling at a strand of her hair. Raoul froze in his chair. She did not know of the arrangement. She did not know that she was not allowed to call him, lest it be a medical emergency. God, Erik is going to kill her!

"Your husband, E-Erik..." Raoul stuttered, shutting his eyes tightly. "Erik is your husband... And I'm..."

"Yes... Erik is my husband..." Christine narrowed her eyes, trying to grasp the situation. Christine suddenly gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth. Raoul somehow, simultaneously did the same.

"Christine!" Raoul shouted, fearing for her life. She found out the agreement. Oh God, oh God! Raoul needed to think fast, but what could he do about it? He knew very well what Erik thought of him and he did not mind the agreement, but what would his wife think of it? That was the true question.

"That is disgusting! I _cannot_ believe you two! How dare you ever touch me with those fingers and examine me!" Raoul's expression immediately turned perplexed. What was she talking about? Christine's body shivered with disgust, she felt dirty and used. She stood in revulsion, scrunching her face up in detestation. "You've seen me naked!" Raoul stood to his feet, his face drained of blood. His sweaty palm met his forehead, his knees buckling beneath him.

"What!? Christine, what the _hell_ are you talking about!?" Raoul defended himself, loudly into the phone. Yes, he had seen her naked, but that was the job. He thought nothing of it. What was she insinuating - that he was a pervert? No! He was a professional!

"You and Erik! You're gay, with my husband! That's why I'm not allowed to talk to you! Gay, because you're gay... With Erik! Gay... Erik!" Christine almost fainted, trying to weakly find the couch behind her. Raoul spit out his water, almost laughing at her accusation. Coughing to gain his composure, he repeated her name to get her attention. "What! No! I'm no longer talking to you!"

"Christine, listen to me. I'm not gay and neither is your husband. We aren't gay... And we certainly don't do anything gay together..." Raoul practically barfed in his mouth as the painful words fell out of his lips. "I was surprised that you called me, because he told me to stay away from you." Christine exhaled a sigh of relief, the gravitas lifted off of her shoulders.

"Why did he say that? You're my doctor." Raoul rubbed his eyes, trying to recover from what he had just gone through - all of it.

"Exactly, Christine. I'm just your doctor. Do you understand?" Christine nodded, finally comprehending what the problem was.

Truly, Christine still found Raoul very attractive. His hazel eyes were enticing, his hands mesmerizing. Though she was in love with Erik, she wondered if she could ever be in lust with Raoul. He cared for her deeply and she trusted him with her life, a rarity.

He had known what she went through with Cameron and he really wanted to help her. With Christine's fragile condition, Raoul knew that Erik was more of the, 'hands on,' type of guy. Raoul also knew that with Christine's vulnerable state, she had to be handled a certain way, delicately and with a select few words. Erik had not yet learned how to control Christine in such a way that both simultaneously prevented panic attacks, while also causing her to obey his commands, without becoming a limp rag doll. Christine was an enigma to Raoul. PTSD was surely a factor, but Raoul also wanted to rule in a panic disorder and separation anxiety. Raoul thought about bipolar disorder and depression. He ruled out bipolar disorder, but he knew that her depression was still heavy on her shoulders. Erik knew about the panic disorder and depression, but he had no idea about the separation anxiety. He had no idea about the toll his long days were taking on Christine. She hardly ate, hardly slept, and she was growing increasingly skinny. Christine sighed to herself, glancing at the clock. Erik would not be home for another seven hours.

"Can I come to your office, Doc?" Christine's tone of voice had change after her long pause. Raoul looked down at the stack of papers, groaning internally to himself. His watch read 12:17pm, barely noon. "I don't feel good..." Was she saying this to get into his office or was she truly sick? Raoul sighed, shrugging off his white lab coat. Her voice was so quiet, so sad. Raoul finally gave into her pleas.

"Okay, Christine." Christine smiled widely, standing to her feet. "Chris, can I call you Chris?"

"Call me whatever you want, Doc." Raoul nodded, trying not think of the consequences that Erik was going to lay out for him - one by one and each different language he knew.

"What time does Erik get home from work?" Raoul asked, grabbing his lunch from his bag.

"Usually seven or eight, I guess. He got home last night at two in the morning... But that doesn't matter. I won't be there long, I promise. I'm just going to stay there until I have to pick up Parker. I'm just... Lonely." Christine breathed out the last word, shrugging her shoulders as she grabbed her purse. "Is that okay?" _No. It is not okay._

"Yes, of course it is. I'll see you soon, Chris. Be safe, okay?" Click. Raoul walked out to the break room, trying to find Genevieve. There was no sight of the tiny nurse. Finally, the familiar black haired ponytail bobbed through the sea of scrubs. "Gen!" Raoul called out, trying to make his way through the crowd.

"Raoul! Aren't you on your lunch break?" She smiled widely, her engagement ring shining in his eyes.

"Yeah... Listen, I need someone to take my afternoon appointments." Raoul never blew off his patients. Genevieve rose a curious eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest.

"What? Why? Are you sick?" Raoul groaned, scratching his neck.

"No, I'm not. It's just... Uh... Christine. Christine is coming by my office and I have to clear the afternoon for her." Raoul mentally slapped his forehead. Genevieve's face contorted to the, '_Okay, what's really going on here?_' look and it made Raoul's stomach churn. "If you could get Doctor Willard to cover for me, that'd be great. Thanks, Gen. You're great!" Placing a quick peck on her cheek, Raoul escaped into his office, shutting the door behind him. "Fuck." He stated, rubbing his eyes again.

Fifteen minutes later, a quiet knock emitted from the other side of the door. With a smile, Raoul sat up from eating his lunch and made sure his face was clean of the remnants of his sandwich.

"Come in, please." Raoul spoke gently. The wavy brown hair soon entered, Christine smiling wider than ever. She fashioned a red button-up blouse, collared at the top. Her hair was in a loose braid, falling against her left shoulder. Her skin tight white jeans made her muscular thighs so difficult not to stare at (and Raoul tried to hide his subtle groans) as her black sweater draped her arms, completing the look perfectly.

"Why is it so hot in here?" Christine placed her purse on the cabinet shelf, her back facing Raoul. He thanked God that she could not see his wandering eyes. Peeling off the wool sweater, her taut jeans showed off her toned physique flawlessly. Raoul growled at the temptress. Turning around, she flitted to the chair in front of his desk, sitting on the arm of the seat.

"Christine, it's so good to see you." Raoul shyly said, ignoring her exposed chest. God, this was going to be a long afternoon. "You look well."

"It's just good to be out of the house! I hate being cooped up like a chicken." She looked down at Raoul's unfinished lunch. With a frown, she huffed out a puff of disappointed air. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to interrupt your lunch... I can go..." Raoul's head shot up, trying to get eye contact. Christine slid off the chair, her eyes darting around the floor.

"No, Christine. It's fine, really. I'm not hungry anymore. I was just finishing. Please, stay." Raoul's tone was soft, welcoming as he motioned for Christine to sit across from him. "Please." Christine nodded, taking her seat once more. Immediately, she smiled again.

"Do you ever think about moving away from New York?" She looked around his desk, picking up the various picture frames. "Sometimes, I wish I never left California..." Raoul frowned as he watched the wavy haired girl traced the frames with her tiny fingertips.

"Why do you say that?" She put the picture frame back, smiling at the hazel eyed man in front of her.

"I liked California. It was almost never cold and my dad's grave stone is there..." Christine sighed, pausing momentarily in silence for her father. Raoul noticed that she grabbed her necklace. With a slow blink, Christine smiled again. "My birthday is next month, Raoul."

"I know, how old are you turning? You have to be... What, 20? You're just a baby..." Raoul trailed off, his eyes mesmerized by the curve of her lips, the sensual ridges of her collarbones, the hypnotizing pools of green irises that irradiated a room as soon as she entered it. "Just a baby..."

"I'm going to be 25, Raoul! I'm hardly a baby, I'm old." Christine poked out her bottom lip, pouting like a child, only to change her expression to a wide grin. "God and Parker is going to be six in May!" Christine threw her head back in disbelief, grumbling in irritation. Raoul could not help, but look at her shirt that rose to expose her midriff.

"Yeah... Crazy, right? They grow up so fast..." What did he know? Raoul did not have kids. Raoul shook his lustful thoughts, coughing back to reality.

"How old are you, Raoul?" Christine asked, blinking happily.

"I'm thirty, oh God. It sounds so horrible when you say it out loud..." Raoul ran a feverish hand through his hair. Wow, it was hot in here. "I turn thirty one in July. Oh, Jesus, that's absolutely ridiculous." Christine titled her head, twirling her hair like a teenage girl. Raoul took a sharp breath, his eyes locked on her. '_Just a baby.._.' He thought over and over in his mind.

"If it's any consolation, I still think you look like a twenty five year old, Raoul." He smiled gently, making a weird facial expression. "It's true, you know..." Christine looked down, playing with her wedding rings.

What was she doing? She loved Erik! Well, what was left of him. He never was home and when he was, she was asleep. He always rose at dawn, leaving breakfast for Christine and Parker. He would then leave for the studio for the day. Christine would rise around six, get ready for the day, then get Parker awake and prepared for school. After breakfast, she would get Parker to school at eight and then she would go by Meg's before she had work. Christine would be stuck at home for the rest of the day with yoga and book reading, hardly a day at that! Erik would come home exhausted, cantankerous, and silent. Usually, he would come home at midnight - way past Christine's bed time. She would be asleep by ten. She lied to Raoul. He would not be home until after midnight. Really, she just wanted a friend... A friend to comfort her, keep her company... She just wanted someone, that is what she always wanted, ever since she was little... And Raoul was very aware of that fact.

"Christine, we can't do this meeting up in secret again... It's wrong... It's... You're married." He stated tersely, conflicting with the kindness in his undertone.

"Raoul, I just want a friend. I didn't come here to... Have sex with you..." She whispered the last bit, embarrassed to say it. Raoul sat still, his mind racing. Was she not getting sexual pleasure at home? Was she not satisfied with the almighty Erik Deslow? Raoul chuckled to himself.

"I didn't mean... Christine, do you remember what I told you?" Christine shook her head, innocent as ever. Raoul leaned over, grabbing her cold hands. Raoul was perplexed. His room was stuffy, hot. How was her body cold? "Christine, your hands are freezing!"

"I get like this when... When I'm sad." Christine pulled her hands away, rushing to the office door in tears. "I'm sorry! Please don't tell Erik! Please!" She cried, fumbling for her purse. Her eyes were clouded with salty tears. She was tripping over her feet, uncontrollable. Raoul sighed, rushing to her side. Bending down to her level, he took the trembling girl into his arms.

"Christine, why are you sad?" He tried hushing her, but she kept crying. Her skin was freezing, her arms like ice. He grabbed her sweater off the cabinet with ease, wrapping it around her body. "Christine, you can tell me anything..." Christine sniffled, wiping her tears away with her sweater. Her eyes were incredibly wide as she looked up at Raoul. His heart shattered into a million pieces. No, she was not sad... She was broken.

He cradled her in his arms, her eyes not leaving his. She smiled softly, shivering and chattering. Slowly, his fingers began to draw circles on her skin, as if automated. She sighed happily, closing her eyes in bliss. Raoul noticed that her body began to warm. Moments later, Christine opened her big green eyes, peering at the doctor with wonderment. He chuckled softly as she bit her bottom lip. 'Don't do that... Oh God, please do not do that...' Raoul thought repetitively, her breathing light as he tried to rid his mind of his adulterous demises. Soon, his thoughts were interrupted with the words he so deeply longed to hear, yet so dreaded to fall forward through with that actually heard his heart tear with a conflict so great, he lost the air in lungs for what felt like an eternity - an infinite eternity.

"Kiss me."

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**A/N: **

**A bit of EC **

**A bit of RC **

**:) **

**read & review! :) **

**I love you all! **


	15. Chapter 15

**Airplane Mode**

**A moment of bliss for this crazy couple. **

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Christine and Raoul had sat on his office floor for a very long time, trying to decipher their lustful feelings for each other. He did _not_ kiss her, though everything within him had told him otherwise. Christine in her mind, wanted Raoul to kiss her, but in her heart she knew that it was wrong. She apologized for her forwardness and Raoul apologized for his poor discretion. Christine had rather hoped that she did not ruin their friendship. Raoul assured her that she did not - for the sake of her sanity - but in his mind, nothing was worse than knowing that the most beautiful woman in the world wanted to kiss him too. They left it at that and she left to pick up her son. Christine pondered on the thought of an affair all the way to the school and all the way back home. She did not ever think of one before she had met Raoul. He was kind to her, he knew her well, and treated her with respect. Yet, Christine could not gain enough strength to pull herself from Erik. Something much greater than the weight of her wedding rings was stopping her from seducing Raoul into an affair. Was it the red string of fate that tied her and Erik together or was it the fact that they now had a son to raise and Raoul was not meant to raise a deaf child? Christine's mind wandered aimlessly, not knowing what to do with herself. She was lonely, she was sad. She believed that Erik was neglecting her for a multitude of reasons. Was it her love making or was it her personality? Was he frustrated with having to take care of her constantly or was he angered by the fact that he did not have a full-functioning son, with normal hearing abilities? Christine did not know. Christine did not want to know. All she wanted was someone to comfort her, someone to hold her... And Raoul had done just that.

"Parker, eat your pasta. You need the carbohydrates." Christine pushed the bowl of pasta back towards her son with a sigh, running a tired hand through her mangled hair.

"What is a c-a-r-b-o-h-y-d-r-a-t-e?" Parker finger-spelled the long word out, pushing the bowl back towards his mother with disgust. "It looks sticky." Christine had finally gotten to the end of her rope.

She stood up, throwing the bowl of pasta to the floor in anger. The ceramic bowl shattered, the little buttered pieces of Farfalle pieces flying every which way. Parker jumped like a bull in its pen. His mother was shouting, but he was unable to read her lips. He was not six years old yet. She was crying uncontrollably, her hand was bleeding from trying to pick up the shards of ceramic bowl from the floor. When she bent down, Parker noticed that her arms were very skinny, her hands bony and dry. The blood had gotten on her skirt making her more upset. He sat there in his seat, frozen and frightened - for his mother. His father was at his office, making last minute business deals for a company in Sweden. He _swore _that he would only be gone two hours at most, but seeing that it was seven in the evening and he had left at two that afternoon, Christine knew that he would not be returning for at least three more hours. Grabbing a towel from the kitchen, she wrapped her cut hand tightly, wiping her tears with the other hand. She knelt down in front of her son, luckily it was her left hand that got cut. With eyes that could break your soul into two, she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, her lips quivering with anxiety and fear.

"Please take a bath. I will clean this and be in there to say goodnight soon." Parker nodded, wrapping his arms around his mother. He did not respond, he just held her, trying to calm his trembling mother. With a kiss to her cheek, he obeyed and ran off into his bathroom.

Hours later, the mess was cleaned and Christine sat in her bedroom. She had taken a long bath, trying to rid herself of her dark thoughts. She wanted so badly to call Raoul, to hear his voice. They had not talked in over threeweeks. They had not spoken since _the _incident. She promised herself that it would not let her bother her, but she could not shake the feeling that he was ignoring her. She just wanted a friend. She just wanted a friend...

"Christine?" Erik's voice broke her train of thought as he stepped into the bedroom, clad in his vest, slacks, dress shirt and tie. She looked up at him, her eyes puffy with already cried tears. "Christine, what happened to your hand?" He rushed to her side on the bed, grabbing her frail hand.

"I dropped a plate." She spoke shortly, pulling her hand away from his grasp. "That was certainly a long two hours, don't you think?" She looked away from him, her gaze harsh on the opposite wall. He was speechless, unable to muster up any words to explain his whereabouts. "I don't know what you want from me, Erik. You tell me that you are going to the office for two hours and it's seven hours later... Your son hardly sees you, your wife never sees you. Are you having an affair?" Erik stood up in protest, his eyes angry with offense.

"Christine Deslow! How _dare_ you accuse me of such a vulgar acts!" He shouted at her, his hands flying up in detestation. Her eyes narrowed at him as she grabbed the pillows, threatening to throw them at him.

"How dare _I _accuse _you_?" She seethed, standing to meet his declarations. "Who is the one always home with OUR son? Who is the one always left at home, while YOU go off into La-La Land for EIGHT fucking hours?" She was crying again. "WHO IS THE ONE TAKING CARE OF OUR SON WHILE YOU GO OFF FUCKING SOMEONE ELSE?!" Erik saw the raging fire within her as she collapsed in his arms. She was hysterical. "Erik... I-If y-you love someone e-else... J-Just s-say it..." His heart swelled at the hopelessness she carried in her voice.

"Oh, Christine... No, no..." He gently sat the both of them down, cradling her in his arms. She was shaking. "I could never love another, never..." He paused for a moment, removing his mask. _No guests. No mask. _"Christine, look at me, please look at me." She lifted herself up, her eyes clouded with tears. Her fingertips glazed the bullet wounds, quavering with empathy. "Angel, I need you to listen to me... Can you do that for me?" She nodded slowly, her hand cupping Erik's mutilated cheek.

"Yes." She whispered, sitting between his legs.

"I was away for so long, because I was arranging for our... Very delayed honeymoon. It serves two purposes, my love. One, being our honeymoon and two, being your birthday gift. We leave tomorrow morning, my Angel. Parker will stay with Meg, I have already arranged everything..." Erik smiled softly, moving a strand of hair behind her ear. "Would you like it if we went away together, just you and me?" Christine's eyes lit up, the green irises brightening as her smile widened with glee that Erik had not seen in _months. _

"Oh, Erik! That sounds so wonderful, oh Erik..." Tears again began to form as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer to her body.

"Why are you crying, Angel?" His thumbs reached to her eyes, wiping away all the sadness.

"I accused you of cheating! Forgive me, please forgive me..." She repeated the two words over and over again, against the flesh of his neck. As her lips met his heated skin, he could not help, but accept her apologies and forget that anything horrible had been accused against him.

The next morning came too quickly for Christine. She awoke tangled in the red satin sheets, happier than ever. The luggage had been packed and the smell of breakfast was filling the penthouse as she sat up to meet the morning sun. As per usual, Erik was in the kitchen, preparing the delicious meal. Parker was sitting at the table, doodling in his color book. Erik noticed that Christine had awoken by the light footsteps creeping up behind him. Turning to meet her, Christine was thoroughly disappointed. She was sure she was quiet this time. Parker was excited to see that his mother was feeling better, for this was the first time that he had actually seen his mother and father together in weeks. He delighted in the fact that they were going away together. He knew that a mother and father needed time together and in their case, they needed a lot of time together.

"We leave in an hour, my Angel." Erik murmured against Christine's neck as she scooped a bit of powdered sugar onto his nose. With her infamous giggle, she nodded softly and winked. "Is that how this trip is going to go?" He gave a cheeky smile, turning back to his pancake making.

"Parker, will you be a good boy for Aunt Meg?" Christine asked a distracted Parker, who in response gave a half-hearted sign and waved his mother off with a lazy smile. "I'm glad to see that you care so much about your mother..." Christine grumbled, sitting beside her blond son. Erik soon walked over, placing the plate of food in front of his son. "None for me?" Christine raised an eyebrow, pouting her other infamous facial expression.

"No." With a pat to her head, Erik placed a kiss on her cheek and snaked his arm around her small waist. "We are having _something else_ for breakfast, _mon amour." _

Christine hated planes, no matter how fancy they were. She did not even know Erik had a private jet. She did not care, she _hated _planes. Erik promised her that the flight was going to be over and the destination was going to be well worth the aggravation over the plane. She had no such hope. Erik thought her hatred over planes was quite adorable, she thought his lifeless, dead body, in a morgue was more adorable - just a musing in her head, though. The flight was only four and a half hours, but it felt like an eternity. Erik assured Christine that the destination was tropical, beautiful, and exotic. Christine assured Erik that the destination was not worth the plane ride. He wondered what fostered her hatred for planes so much, but he dare not ask her. As soon as they landed, Christine became more at ease with herself, like putty in Erik's hands. That was all he needed to be happy - Christine's happiness.

"Oh, Erik! This island is amazing! What is it called?" Christine spun around in a circle like a fairy, her teal dress twirling in the light breeze. Erik caught up to his fairy, catching her mid-spin by the waist. Placing a kiss on her forehead, she smiled gently, her cheeks warming in a tinted blush.

"It is called St. Lucia. I have reserved a private villa for a week, my Angel. It is about twenty minutes away. We have our own car service waiting for us, shall we go... Mrs. Deslow?" Christine shivered at her title. She had not been called that since her wedding! Erik brushed his lips to her pale knuckles, bringing her arms into his. As they walked across the tarmac, they were met by a stout dark-skinned man.

"Hello, Mr. Deslow! I am Zachary André. I will be your driver for the next week. Your wish is my command. Shall I grab your bags?" Erik nodded, moving to the passenger side. Opening the door for his wife, Christine scooted into the car.

"Thank you Mr. André." Erik handed the man a large bill, smiling in gratitude. As he got into the car, he noticed that the steering wheel was on the opposite side.

"Which island are we exactly on, Erik?" Christine's petite voice echoed from her side of the car.

"Soufriere, Saint Lucia. It is on the boundary of the Atlantic Ocean, in the Caribbean." Erik smiled while the car began to swiftly off the tarmac. "Specifically, we will be staying at a villa called Caille Blanc. It is a private villa, my Angel. I think you will quite like it."

Caille Blanc had six bedrooms, much too many for two people. It was secluded though, something that Erik enjoyed. Christine's air supply was simply taken from her as she stood in the doorway of the villa, her eyes impossibly wide as her mouth stood agape, guffawing at the scenery around her. The cherry wood floors and the white polyester furniture was modern and chic, something that caught her attention immediately upon entering the villa. The infinity pool in the back had clear blue water, a cabana to the right, and a fully stocked bar to the left. Erik had truly out done himself. One of the six bedrooms had been made into a personal spa, a place that Erik had hoped Christine would use freely for her own use. The kitchen was large, but elegant at best. With a grand piano in the living room and a mini-bar in the master bedroom, Christine could not bare to think of ever leaving this place.

"Have you located your first birthday gift yet, my Angel?" Erik snuck up behind Christine, his hands resting upon her hips. His voice trickled down her neck, the heat of his breath sending a shockwave of goosebumps down her spine.

"My birthday is not until tomorrow, Maestro. I hope not to find it until then." She sank into his hold, resting her head against his chest. The air was humid as she closed her eyes in bliss.

"Yes, but I would like for you to open it now..." Christine smiled, turning around to face the masked man. Taking off the porcelain covering, she removed the mask and wig, placing it on the glass table beside the front door. "Ah, no guests, no mask." Christine took his, leading him to the living room with a giddy step.

"Enlighten me, Maestro. What do you have planned for us this next week and a half?" Erik assisted in taking off the lavender sweater Christine's body, placing it over the back of the couch. Grazing his fingertips over the pale skin of her arms, he removed his own jacket off, enjoying the humid air.

"I have many plans for us, Christine. For your birthday tomorrow though, the whole day is a surprise. I cannot spill any of my secrets to you. For the duration of our stay, I would fancy walks on the beach, tropical safaris, shopping... Anything you would like, my Angel. Saint Lucia is your oyster and you are the pearl." Christine blushed, closing the space between herself and her husband. With a calming hum, he brought his hand to her cheek with a gentle caress. "I am sorry that this honeymoon is so delayed... I am sorry that I have been the worst husband to you... I have neglected you and treated you horribly, my Christine... I beg for your forgiveness, but I do not expect that you will give it to me, for I do not deserve-"

Christine interrupted Erik's pathetic speech with a passionate kiss, a long awaited kiss that had been brewing in the pit of her stomach for weeks now. His ardent tugs at the small of her back made her stumble backwards as he attacked her jaw with his swelled lips. He missed _this. _He had almost forgotten the taste of her skin, the warmth of her tongue, the amorous gazes that they exchange between breaths. He had been so caught up with his various areas of work that he had deserted the _one _person who made his heart soar, his mind clouded, and his hands tremble with an urgency so colossal, that he could barely contain the titillation that stirred beneath his skin at the mention of _her _name. He knew that his abandonment was slowly deteriorating Christine's sanity, he cursed himself everyday that he went off to work. Christine's lips were throbbing from how harshly she was kissing her husband. As they stood in the middle of the Caille Blanc Villa, alone at last, gasping for air and tangled within each other's arms, the only thing that seemed to be on each other's minds were the apologies for every wrong they ever did to one another. Christine could not bring herself to mention Raoul, no. She could not ruin this moment. Erik, well he had his secrets. They both did, yet neither of them seemed to want to know them in the silence of the living room. Though, they apologized for them profusely telepathically with the kisses that previously devoured each other, they remained hushed, just reveling in the magnificence of the island. Basking in the grandiose architecture of the villa, absorbing the humid climate (which was nothing like the dry heat of New York), and all the while, the pair somehow managed to comprehend that the individual standing in front of them was the most important person on the earth - that no other person was as meaningful as the person that could finish the sentence, the one sentence that would forever be engraved on their souls, hearts, and minds.

_"Learn to love again with me. _

_Toujours." _

The couple had spent the remainder of the night in the backyard of the villa. Christine insisted on making s'mores and while Erik insisted on s'mores not being a healthy meal, he could not resist the impossibly wide green eyes that Christine fashioned especially for her husband. With a late night skinny dip, Christine tested her husband's limited while she frolicked in the warm pool water in the nude. Erik had lectured her on the act of skinny dipping and how _incredibly immature _it was, but Christine was already naked and in the deep end by the time he finished his boring lecture. Erik finally gave in when she started singing. She found _his _weakness that evening. After a proper French meal that Erik prepared, Christine made a Skype video call to Parker and Meg, making sure that he was doing just fine. Truly, he could not be happier. Aunt Meg had taken him out to ice cream after school and before art class. He had his favorite, strawberry ice cream with waffle cone bites. Aunt Meg loved spoiling Parker and Parker had no complaints. While the midnight moon crept in, Christine began to feel sluggish, her eyelids heavy with the day's travel weighted on her thick eyelashes. Scooping his wife up in a grand gesture, they made their way to the master bedroom, turning in for the first night in a pure utopia.

* * *

"Erik, will you ever show Parker your scarred face?" Christine murmured, leaning against his chest while she pulled up the white comforter to her waist. The mid-morning sun streamed in perfectly as she yawned softly, wrapping Erik's protective arms around her.

"If he ever asks, I suppose so." Christine could feel Erik's heart speed up upon her back, the gravitas of acceptances weighing heavily on his shoulders. "Why do you ask, Angel?"

"He asked me about your mask one day, while you were gone to the office." Erik froze, his golden eyes wide with fear. Christine turned to face the unmasked statue, his golden eyes glossy with terror. "Erik, he's only five. I think it's good that he's curious about it, Erik."

"Christine, he is five. He will only be frightened by it. Trust me, everyone is." Christine removed herself away from her husband's grasp, standing to her feet. Her eyes watered in a put-down of emotions. The watery crystals attached to her eyelashes as she tried to blink away the pain of Erik's rejection.

"I resent that assumption, Erik! He is _my _son! I've raised him well thus far and I believe that he will react just as I did, with a heart of acceptance and honesty. Didn't I make you feel accepted and loved? Was I not clear when I made the, 'No guests, no mask,' rule? What makes you think that my son will be any different from me? He's half my flesh and blood-"

"Christine..." Erik whispered, his head buried beneath his hands in complete and utter chagrin. "Angel, I did not mean to place assumption that _our _son would ever be one to place judgment on another person, because he is half of _your_ flesh and blood. I did not mean to accuse you of raising your son in the wrong... You have raised your son better than anyone I have ever known, my love. I could not possibly have asked for a better wife, a mother to raise my son. Truly, Christine... I am a fool to ever assume that he would act in disgust, rather than in acceptance of my scars - just as his mother did, so graciously to such an undeserving man." Christine smiled a quivering smile, walking between the man's legs whose head was still bowed in veneration. Raising his head gently with her fingers, her feverish lips met his trembling swells in a heated rush of urgency, emotion, and overwhelming love.

"I love you, I love you... Oh God, I love you..." She repeated against the marred flesh of his phantom cheekbone. Kissing away his tears, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning forward pushing them both onto the bed. "I love you, Erik... I love you... I just love you so much..."

"Say... Say it again..." He breathed out, turning his Angel over, caressing the soft skin on her cheek. His eyes searched the sea-foam irises, making certain that her muttered words were not a foolish nightmare, a childish trick played on him by the demons that plagued him day in and day out, since he was a child himself.

"I love you, I love you..." She repeated, bringing her lips to his neck. He could not refuse such a sweet song from the most tender lips. "Never leave me, never let me go... Please..." His breath was quickened, his lips trailing down a patterned of airy kiss to her collarbone. "Don't ever go... Don't ever leave me, Erik..." He shook his head lightly, intertwining their fingers in a desperate hold.

"Oh, Angel... I am not going anywhere." He brought his golden eyes to hers, an innocent smile spreading to her face. "I promise you, I am never going anywhere..." His voice was quavering, shaking with a nervousness she had never seen in him before.

"Do you promise?" She had heard him speak the words, but she wanted to feel the promise, to know that his words were sealed with the actions of a physical bond.

"I promise, I promise... I love you..." With a deepening kiss, her fingers intricately wove themselves into the matching gold strands of hair, tenderly pressing into his scalp. He could not resist such a sensation. Letting out a shaky moan, Christine took the chance to journey into his mouth, her tongue exploring each cavern of his mouth. He had no complaints, moving with her in a frenzied battle for dominance.

"Show me, show me you'll never leave me..." Erik paused, resting his slightly sweaty forehead atop hers. Moving his hands to the small of her back, he lifted her petite body up to meet his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, making him groan with an inexplicable need for release. "Make love to me, Erik... Show me you love me."

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**A/N: Do not worry, the honeymoon/birthday trip is not over yet! Oh my Dialers, it is just getting started... **

**read & review! I love you all! **


	16. Chapter 16

**Panorama**

* * *

Christine was spoiled on her birthday at the villa. In the morning, Erik sent her to the spa, hoping she would find some relaxation while he made some business calls. On the evening of her birthday, Erik had surprised Christine with a tiny rectangular box. Inside, a fifteen diamond necklace lay, with a singular aquamarine stone in the middle. The rest of her birthday was spent on the beach, underneath a romantic canopy that Erik had set up, rose petals strewn about onto the warm sand. The light sea salt breeze would pass by the couple every now and then as Erik held Christine close, dancing to her favorite classical pieces, played by a personal string quartet. Truly, her birthday could not have gone better. While Christine made a Skype call to Parker and Meg, Erik was sure to make the bedroom as romantic as possible. With a bottle of wine and a single red rose, he beckoned for his wife from the candlelit hallway, hoping that maybe she had just enough energy to last the night. She had more than enough energy to last a thousand lifetimes with Erik.

"Tell me Erik, what's your favorite color?" Christine asked as she stirred the cake mix. Erik tilted his head at the random question, his face completely perplexed. He had never thought about his favorite color before.

"I do not have one, my dear." He simply answered back, pulling the gray t-shirt over his head.

"Erik, everyone has to have a favorite color. How do you ever decorate anything?" He lifted an eyebrow at his wife.

"I never said that I decorated anything." He smiled widely, pulling her closely to his body. "Nadir always picks out my furniture, my dear. My clothes and my decor has always been Nadir's responsibility." Christine could not help, but smile at Erik's helplessness.

"Nadir has good taste, then." Erik grinned, nodding in agreement with his wife. "Will you ever take me to one of your operas?"

"I was not aware that you were ever interested in going to the opera. Do my operas intrigue you, Angel?" She sarcastically scoffed, rolling her eyes.

"Erik, is that even a question? Of course they do! You slave and slave over these dumb operas, making yourself sick. They must be good. They have to be good, considering how much work you put into them." He stopped listening once he heard the word, 'dumb,' leave her lips. His blood was curling with anger as he grasped onto marble top counter. "I mean you spent countless hours in the studio composing those stupid operas. I was starting to think that you loved those things more than me." Erik's fists balled as he tried to contain his temper. Her tone was loose, jocular, but as she went on about Erik's music as if it was a something to put on display, for everyone to laugh at - just as before.

"Christine." He spoke harshly, but to no avail, she continued her mocking remarks. She did not realize that he was making fun of her. She was only joking, but Erik did not know how to take a joke.

"You spent twelve hours in that studio writing dumb music for some German guy you have never even met, Erik. If you love your piano so much, why did you not just marry your piano?"

_Smack. _Erik's hand was red as he stumbled backwards in horror. His chest was rapidly moving up and down as his hand trembled, his terrified gaze never leaving his stinging palm. In abhorrence of himself, Erik timidly bent down to his wife that cowered in the corner of the kitchen, covering her face with her quivering hands. She was sobbing, shaking and frightened. With a self-loathing inhale, he held out his hand, only to earn a flinch from the girl in the corner. He was disgusted with himself as he sat on the cold tile, the redness from his palm dying down finally.

"I-I'm sorry... Please... I'll be good..." Her voice was quiet, as she drew her knees to her chest, petrified.

"Christine... Let me help you..." He tried reaching out his hand again, but his wife only recoiled in discomposure, her panic rising. He could see it in her green eyes. "C-Christine..." With a hesitant gaze, he began to scoot closer to her, hoping she did not notice that he was closing the space between them. "I did not mean to hit you..."

"GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY, YOU'RE MEAN!" She had finally removed her hands from her face, revealing a purple bruise on her cheek and a swelled lip. "STOP IT! STOP YELLING AT ME!" She began to kick her legs as Erik tried approach the hysterical girl. "YOU'RE SO MEAN!" Erik sighed heavily as the bruised and battered girl yelled at him, kicking her legs up in the air defensively. He had to move quickly before she hurt herself. With a swift arm motion, Erik had Christine's legs pinned down to the floor. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a small syringe.

_'If she really needs it, make sure to only administer it to her outer thigh. Do not insert the syringe anywhere near a major vein or artery. It's not that strong, but it will knock her out for awhile. Use it upon your own discretion, I'm giving you give syringes. I'm guessing you'll be paying out of pocket?' _

"I am sorry... I am so sorry. Angel." Erik groaned, closing his eyes. In another moment, Erik had inserted the syringe into Christine's thigh, wincing at her pain.

"YOU ARE SO MEAN! GET AWAY FROM ME!" She yelled again, "So mean... Away... Get away..." She mumbled as her eyelids closed, her body falling limp into Erik's arms. Erik's tears fell as he glared upon the damage he caused. Caressing her bruises with his fingertips, he shook his head. Scooping his wife up into his arms, he made his way to the master bedroom. Turning down the bed, Erik placed his Angel into the bed, tucking her in tightly into the blankets.

"Sleep well, my angel."

* * *

Christine woke up hours later with tears immediately fleeting to her eyes. Her face hurt, her leg was sore. Looking around, she noticed that she was still in the villa, but Erik was nowhere to be found. With a blink, her cheek surged with an excruciating pain. She groaned loudly, making her way to the restroom. Glancing in the mirror, she finally understood why she was in such agony. Her right cheek was completely swollen, black and blue. Her lip was swelled, but she could not remember how she got like this. The last thing she remembered was dancing last night on the beach with Erik. Lifting up Erik's dress shirt, she noticed a tiny bruise on her outer thigh. With no recollection of how the damage occurred, she stepped out into the villa, only to be met with emptiness and one very strange letter. It sat on the kitchen counter, addressed to Christine. With a sigh, she took her seat and opened the letter, hoping for the best but expecting the worst.

_Christine, _

_If you are reading this and I am not at the villa, do not worry for I will return soon. I have gone out to the island to gather some things and to make some business calls. I did not want to bother you while you slept. There is some dinner in the refrigerator that I made for you, my Angel. We have much to discuss upon my arrival. I suppose you wish to know how your cheek got bruised. I will have the answers for you, my dear. Wait for me at the villa and I will return to you tonight. _

_With Love, _

_Erik _

Christine sighed, putting the note back down on the counter. She was not that hungry. She decided that it would be a good time to shower. She felt like she still had grains of sand in her hair. After her shower, she waited around for another two hours for Erik to come back to the villa. He had ignored her calls and text messages; something he almost never did. Christine began to worry immensely when it was four hours later and it was pitch black outside and Erik was nowhere to be found. She was in a foreign location, mysteriously bruised, and her husband was missing. This time _she _was the one pacing the floor.

"Hello? Erik? Is that you?" Christine frantically answered her phone with a shaky breath.

"No, ma'am. I assume you are Mrs. Deslow, then." The man was French.

"Yes I am. Please tell me you know where my husband is, he hasn't called me back or anything. It's been hours since he's left and I just don't know where he is." Christine was trembling, on the brink of an innumerable amount of tears.

"Mrs. Deslow, your husband is here in the hospital. He was in a car crash. He is severely injured. Mr. Deslow is in critical condition. The car accident was almost fatal, he is very lucky to be alive. I suggest you come to the hospital as soon as possible. We have some paperwork you need to fill out and I assume you would like to visit your husband." Christine could not bear to hear another word. She quickly grabbed her purse and was out the door.

"Mr. André! I need you to drive me to the hospital - he's been in a terrible accident!" He nodded rapidly, assisting Christine into the backseat. He never recalled driving faster. The hospital was small, but pretty upscale for an island. Christine rushed through the halls like Superman in the sky. She was frantic. The attendant downstairs said he would be on the second floor, but there was no front desk on the second floor! Christine was running back and forth, trying to search for someone. What if Erik was already dead? What if she was at the wrong hospital? What if there was a third floor and he was on the third floor? Christine began to panic until she hit the floor.

"What the hell!" Christine looked up and saw a woman in a lab coat, her face was apologetic.

"Je suis désolé!" She exclaimed, holding out her hand. Christine grimaced at her foreign tongue. "English, then?"

"Are you a doctor here?" Christine asked very slowly.

"Oui, one of the four. I am Doctor Lacroix. You seem lost, my love." Christine stood to her feet, clutching her purse tightly. "Your face, it is bruised and swollen. Did someone do this to you?" Christine wanted to punch this woman.

"Don't worry about my face!" Christine interjected. "Listen, my husband was in a car accident and he's in critical condition. The nurse down there," Christine made a furious gesturing pointing down below her. "Told me that he was here," Christine then made a circular motion, waving her arm up in the air, "BUT SEEING THAT THERE IS NO DESK UP HERE, I AM UNABLE TO FIND MY HUSBAND. IF YOU COULD KINDLY GET YOUR FRENCH HEAD OUT OF YOUR FRENCH ASS, I WOULD GREATLY APPRECIATE IF YOU COULD TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" Christine was panting, the nurse smiling at the feisty woman in front of her.

"Oui, oui. Your husband is French, no?" Christine hit her palm to the side of her face that wasn't swollen in irritation. "He is this way, Madame. I will show you." With a amiable smile, the doctor walked with Christine. "He had been drinking a lot, my love. His BAC was very high. He could speak some words, mainly French. A passerby saw the wreckage and called the emergency line. He was brought in three hours ago and given an emergency surgery for his leg."

"What's wrong with his leg?!" Christine cried.

"It was mangled, caught in the steering wheel. The knee was completely shattered. We had to put a metal plate in and two rods on the outside that are drilled into his knee to support it while he recovers, while also give him a very uncomfortable cast. When he recovers from the cast, he will have to wear a brace for the rest of his life or he can go for the other option." The French doctor ushered Christine to the ICU, handing Christine a paper mask for precautionary measures.

"What is the other option?" Christine asked with terribly sad eyes.

"Amputation."

They entered the room where Erik lay attached to many tubes and wires. His leg was just as she explained, his body bruised and yellowed from the damage. He had another cast on his arm and a neck brace on, Christine began sobbing at the sight. He was barely breathing. Christine timidly walked over to his bedside, pulling up a chair to his side. His white mask lay on the table, in pieces. The shards were bathed in his blood, dipped in the red paint of his abhorrent behavior, his temper, and self-loathing hatred. Christine picked up the only still white piece of his mask, the eye piece. She could just picture his golden eye looking through it, staring into her heart as he spoke some foreign language, poking fun at the fact that she could not understand a word he said. She put the piece down, shyly reaching for his hand. She could not remember a time when she cried this hard, this much. His hands were cold, dry. Placing a kiss upon his knuckles, stained with her salty pearls of despair, the French doctor interrupted her once more.

"We found this in his pocket when we undressed him for his surgery. Does he always wear suits?" Christine let out a laugh that was mostly masked by her incoherent sobs. She grabbed the tiny piece of paper that was charred at the corners by the disastrous accident. Unfolding the paper, she read the words with a heavy heart. She lurched her body over her husbands, grasping on to his lifeless limbs; sobbing uncontrollably. She did not want him to die, she wanted him to live. She was going to die everything she could to make sure he lived, to make sure they spent the rest of their days together, toujours. The French doctor picked up the note off of the floor, finally understand the hysterical woman. She looked upon the tragic sight, feeling an undeniable wave of grief. The French doctor crossed herself, mumbling a silent prayer over the couple, hoping that for the sake of the woman, her husband would pull through and be by her side once again.

"Christine, I love you."


	17. Chapter 17

**Push to Start**

**A/N: I am sorry for the late update, I got my treatment on Thursday and I have been out of it & what not... Here is a good chapter though, I swear by it! Thank you for reading!**

**Read and review please !**

* * *

Erik showed no improvement in the last two days, besides the fact that Christine _swore _he responded to her when she sang for him, but of course no one was there to witness it. He had been moved to a private room, knowing that if he knew he was in the hospital at all, he would leave immediately and _swear _that he could take care of himself. Christine, nonetheless never left his side. She only returned to the villa once a day to shower and bring him a fresh set of pajamas. Christine could feel Erik's presence with her, even though he lay lifeless beside her. She vigorously tried to figure out how he got into the accident, why he was so drunk, and how it tied into the note. Her first thought was a suicide note, but she thought it too grim. Was he truly that sad? Was she not making him at all happy? _No. _That could not possibly be it. Erik would not commit suicide, he would not leave Parker, Nadir, and his Christine. Erik would not stoop that low, no. Erik would not ever leave his Angel.

"No, I don't want you to come here. I need Parker to stay there." Christine rubbed her eyes, trying to stay awake. "Goddamnit Meg! Please, just stay in New York with Parker and make sure he stays in school. I don't want him worrying about us, okay?"

Christine could break her phone in half, she was so frustrated. Meg insisted that she fly to Soufrière with Parker and that they stay in the villa until Erik was up to full health - only, Christine was not sure that Erik was _ever _going to be up to full health again. He was showing no sign of improvement and it has been four days since the accident. He has remained stagnant and motionless. Christine was drained, emotionally and physically. She had not gotten a full night's rest since she arrived at the hospital and the hospital food was _absolutely_ vile. She had vomited the food back up almost every time she had it. Christine had reduced herself to jello cups and water, a healthy diet for someone who is living on two to three hours of sleep a night.

"Fine, okay, whatever Meg. That's great. Okay. That's good too. I'll call you later. Alright. Bye." Christine ended the call and threw her phone somewhere, she did not care where it landed. Her body was fatigued and she was famished, but she could not bare scarfing down another pork chop. With a sigh, she rested her head down beside Erik's arm, shutting her eyes tightly, just hoping for a bit of rest.

**Three Hours Later**

"Christine, dear, wake up please." Christine shook her head, trying to get the soft voice out of her mind. "Christine, the doctor needs to take Erik to get a CT scan. Let me get you something to eat." Christine could recognize the voice the more it spoke and slowly, her eyes opened to find the most surprising sight.

"Nadir?" The Persian smiled slightly, nodding at the sound of his name. "How... When... What are you doing here, Nadir?"

"I am here to take care of you, my dear. You need rest. Come with me, I will get you good and I will get you back to the villa." Christine vehemently shook her head, grabbing Erik's limp hand.

"No, I'm staying right here. I'm staying with Erik, here with Erik." Nadir sighed at the woman, who truly looked ghostly. Her eyes were sunken and she was pale. Her hair was marred and her lips were unbearably chapped. As she clung to the unconscious man, she glanced down at her wedding rings, mumbling something that Nadir could not hear. "Nadir, I can't leave him - not for food, not for rest, not for anything." Nadir looked towards the door and soon, the French doctor walked through the door.

"Bonjour, Madame Deslow." Christine bit her lip, trying to suppress the anger she felt for the French bitch. "Unfortunately, I am to take your husband for his CT scan. Je suis désolé, Madame." Christine looked at her husband who laid in a catacomb of tubes and wiring. With a tender kiss to his cold cheek, Christine stood, only for her legs to give out beneath her.

Her body was weaker than she thought. She saw Nadir rush to her side, trying to catch her before her head hit the ground. Christine could see the French doctor talking to her, but she could hear no words. Christine began to feel heavy, a blinding pain in her head. She furiously blinked, only seeing bright white lights. Christine shut her eyes, the white lights being too excruciating to bear. Her chest hurt, her body felt numb. Everything was going slowly as The Persian lifted her into his arms, the French doctor yelling something at The Persian. Christine could not read lips as well as Erik could. Christine's eyelids fell heavy as she felt a shock of pain in her arm. An IV. She glanced down at her right arm, trying to comprehend what was happening to her, but it was all too painful, all too fast. Before her body gave out on her completely, she looked up at the bright white lights and saw a figure, a familiar figure who she recognized, then it all seemed to disappear into a foggy daze, a numb foggy daze.

* * *

The doctor circled his patient, making sure her vitals were clear. Her blood pressure was perfect, her temperature at a optimal 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit. She rested peacefully, soon to wake up from her blissful slumber. She was weak before, starving herself and depriving her body from the much needed sleep it required to function properly. The stress was doing damage to her immune system. The doctor was thankful that she was _in _a hospital when she collapsed. Had she been anywhere else, she might have not been so lucky to survive. They had given her a mild sedative, to reduce the chance of a panic attack. The doctor was sure that she would make a full recovery, just in time for her husband's awakening.

"Mrs. Deslow, how wonderful to see you awake. You had quite the fall." The blurry figure hovered beside Christine, checking the monitors above her. Christine looked around the room, trying to remember just how she ended up in a hospital bed. "How are you feeling today?"

"How long have I been in this bed?" Christine asked frantically, suddenly recalling that Erik lay unconscious somewhere. She began to try to untangle herself from the IV, only to be calmed by the doctor who had very nice hands and great hair... And hazel eyes and...

"Raoul?" Christine's eyes grew wide as the doctor smiled widely, holding his clipboard closely to his chest. "What the _hell_ are you doing in Soufrière?"

"I could ask you the same thing." Raoul fixed Christine's IV, replacing the needle. Seeing that she practically ripped out the old one trying to escape, he saw fit to change it anyway. "Not quite the honeymoon you imagined, is it?"

"How did you know I was on my honeymoon?" Christine furrowed her eyebrows at the man. "Wait, you still haven't told me what the _hell _you're doing here!" Raoul let out a small laugh, placing a piece of medical tape over the IV.

"Your friend Nadir called me. He told me that you collapsed and were in a serious condition. Being your doctor, Nadir felt that I knew your medical history the best and that I knew how to nurse back to health the best. He flew me here immediately and I have been here the past three days, nursing you and your little baby back to health."

The room fell to a complete silence. Raoul was unsure of Christine's facial expression, if she even held one. She was staring at his chest, not blinking. She was breathing, but her eyes remained wide and unmoving. Surely, the lack of blinking was irritating her by now. Her mouth was slightly open, but she always had it slightly open, it was nothing new. Finally, she let out all the air she had been holding in her lungs. Slowly, her green eyes met with Raoul's, but still she did not blink. Gradually, without blinking, they moved down to her belly. With one final glance, she finally closed her eyes and exhaled deeply the words that confused Raoul more and more, as he stared at the woman who just found out that there was going to be a plus one.

"_Oh my god." _

Raoul paused for a moment, allowing Christine a second to gather her thoughts - if she even had any.

"Christine, I didn't mean to scare you... I just thought that... You would want to know... That... You... Are... Pregnant..." Raoul smiled awkwardly, unsure of Christine's feelings towards the news.

"Yeah. Thanks." She spoke without any emotion, whatsoever. It was not rude, it was not kind. It was emotionless. "How far along am I?"

"About three, almost four months, Christine-"

"WHAT? THREE MONTHS?" Christine pulled the blanket off and lifted her gown up, trying to look for any sign of pregnancy. "How come I'm only _now _throwing up and feeling fatigue? How come I'm only _now _feeling the signs of pregnancy?" She raised her eyebrow in complete disbelief. Raoul covered her body back up, pushing her gently back down on the pillow.

"Some women don't exhibit signs of pregnancy until their first trimester is over or at all during their pregnancy. Every pregnancy is unique to each woman, Christine. You and Erik became sexually active once you were recovered from surgery, right?" Christine nodded, still in shock from her news. "You had your surgery three weeks before Christmas right?" She nodded again. "Do you know when you could have conceived?"

"I... Somewhere in... I..." Christine tried thinking back to sometime in early January.

"When did you get here in Soufrière?" Christine thought again.

"March 23rd, we got here the 23rd. What day is it?" Raoul checked his watch.

"It's April 2nd. You've just missed April Fool's Day and you're just shy of being here for two weeks." Raoul flipped through the sheets of paper on his clipboard. "Ah, you're going to be sixteen weeks on the ninth of April. You must have conceived-"

"Christmas Day..." Christine breathed out, shaking her head. "I remember now." Smiling slightly at the memory, she turned towards the doctor. "Is Erik okay? I want to see him... I want to tell him the good news." Raoul took a deep breath.

"Christine, your husband is awake-"

"Really? Oh, that's wonderful! I must go now and see him!" Christine began to unhook herself from the wires again. Stopped by the doctor, Christine gave a confused glare. "Why are you stopping me? What's wrong with him? Why aren't you letting me see him?" Christine spit fired the questions faster than her mouth could speak them and _much_ faster than her brain could process them.

"Christine, he's in no condition for any visitors right now. He needs his rest. He's very weak. He has shattered ribs and a punctured lung... I just don't think telling him that he has a baby on the way, is the best thing for him right now." Raoul knew _that _look. With a defeated sigh and without another word, Raoul began to safely remove the wiring of the monitors from Christine. "Just do me a favor, Christine." Raoul whispered, his tone melancholy.

"Anything..." Christine looked into his eyes. They were beyond sad, they were dismal and desolate. She placed her tiny hand on his cheek, trying to get him to look at her for reassurance. "Raoul, anything..." She cooed again. His heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his head like the snares of an angry mob coming to get the most unlucky of monsters. He fell to his knees, burying his face in her lap, grasping onto the robe she had slipped on before. He was trembling.

"I'm so sorry... I'm sorry... It was all we could do... I'm sorry..." He kept repeating his apology, his pleading for forgiveness. He begged Christine over and over again. He was helpless, hopeless and heartbroken. It was as if he had committed the worst crime, but for all the right reasons.

He slowly rose to his feet, his head hung low. He wiped away his tears, trying to remain strong for the woman who stood inches below him. She was fragile. She had never seen him so broken before. She had never been so moved to kiss someone before. Their lips collided in a passionate wave of affection. It was not a kiss of romanticism or fervor - no, it was a kiss of comfort and compassion. His lips were quivering as he pulled apart from hers, both drenched in the salty pearls of their tears. The only thing that was audible was the sound of their quavering breaths, their shaking exhales, their whispers of apologies and affirmations. She rested her hand upon his cheek, her thumb wiping away the stray tears that manage to escape his eyes. She then knew what he meant, what his profuse apologizing was for, what it meant. She knew that this next step in her life with Erik was going to challenging, arduous, painful at most, but she also knew that she had someone by her side to help her through it, someone who would not falter or shatter, someone who would guide her and guard her. It was true yes, she did not know who she was thinking of, whether it be Raoul or Erik, but she also mused that it did not matter. Both were sufficient, both were equal in kindness and compassion. That is all that truly mattered to her and that is all that will ever matter to her.

* * *

Christine made her way to the third floor, her IV in hand. She promised Raoul that she would lug it around for the sake of the baby. Raoul had parted for his break, a much needed emotional break. He warned that Christine that Erik requested that no visitor be allowed into his room. Erik only allowed Nadir in his room, even then... The importance of visitors was an inconsequential subject matter. Erik _surprisingly _allowed the French doctor into his room to change his bandages, only because she was French and for the sole purpose they could speak French together. That way no one would understand what they were saying to each other (that no one being Nadir). Christine was nervous to go into Erik's room after hearing how he treated every other nurse and all the other orderlies. Nadir reassured her though. Nadir made certain that Christine felt confident that visiting Erik would be a success. She had a difficult time believing him, partly because he was icing his forehead. (Erik had thrown his tray at him for some reason and Nadir forgot to duck.) Surely, he would treat his own wife better... Surely, he would treat his own _unborn _child better.

"Madame Deslow, I assure you... I do not think you want to go in there." The French doctor warned Christine as she approached Erik's room, IV in hand.

"Why not? He's my husband." The French doctor looked up from her papers, raising her eyebrow. "He won't kick me out like he's done every other person. He loves me."

"Love is a many splendored thing." The French doctor replied sarcastically, returning to her papers. Christine perked up at the words, smiling widely at the familiar tune.

"Love lifts up where we belong..." Christine quietly sang to herself. "All you need is love..." The French doctor smiled at Christine, nodding in appreciation.

"Do you like that movie?" The French doctor asked.

"It's one of my favorite movies. I think that is my favorite song, though... Maybe not." Christine smiled once more before approaching the door of Erik's room. "I'll think about it." Knocking on the door, Christine took a deep breath. "Erik?"

"Who is it?" He answered tersely.

"It's Christine..." Erik's head shot up from the sheet music he was writing. He glanced down, fixing his blankets. He did not want to see her yet, but he could not deny her. "Can I come in, Maestro?" Erik frantically looked around the hospital room. He was not prepared to see her.

"I... Uh... No." He finally answered. He shut his eyes, feeling nauseous about rejecting her. Truly, he was not ready for her to see him in his condition. "I am sorry, Christine. I do not wish to see you right now."

"Erik, please... I... I know about you. I know about your... Please... Just... Let me come in and be with you... Please... We just want to be with you..." Erik narrowed his eyes at the door. Who could she possibly have brought? He tilted his head in curiosity.

"_We_? Are you with someone?" Christine froze behind the door. "I have no times for games, Christine. Please leave me alone and go back to the villa. I will return to when I am ready. Goodbye." Erik lay back on his pillows, his tears fighting their way into his eyes. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to ignore the stabbing pain in his chest. It was silent. Maybe she had gone. With trembling exhale of air, Erik picked up his pen once more and looked down at his sheet music again, only to be interrupted.

"Erik, I'm pregnant and it's your fault that I'm telling you this way from behind the goddamn door, because you didn't fucking let me in your fucking room. I don't fucking care about your fucking condition. You're so fucking selfish and if you're not ready to see me now, then you're never going to be ready to see me. Have a fun life in that stuffy little room of yours with your dumb fucking doctor. I hope you know that I'm never going to let you see your baby, oh wait! YOU'VE ALREADY TAKEN CARE OF THAT BY NOT LETTING ME IN YOUR FUCKING ROOM!" Christine stormed off with her IV in tow.

She was furious at him, irate and enraged. She was sure that her anger was _not _good for the baby. Ignoring the nurses desperate pleas to stay in the maternity ward, she plowed down to the lobby of the hospital. Christine was looking for one person and one person only. She searched everywhere for Nadir. He was a hard person to find, but she knew he had to be here somewhere. He was always near when Erik was injured. Finally finding him in the gift shop, buying more black ink pens, Christine approached him in her hospital gown with her IV.

"Take me the fuck home right now!" She yelled at him, her breathing heavy and her nostrils flared. "I want to go home to New York right now!" Nadir was _thoroughly _confused.

"Christine... You are in a hospital gown and you are carrying an IV..." Christine only glared more at The Persian. "Did you find your husband?"

"No, I found the door that he hid behind like a fucking selfish bastard." Christine seethed, you could practically see the steam coming out of her ears. Nadir finally understood why she was so vehement about going home. "I. Want. To. Go. Home. Right. Now."

"I understand that, but _you _must understand that Erik has been through a tremendous and traumatic change in his life, he will never be the same person. He hides behind the door, simply because he is afraid of the new world that awaits him. _You _are the new world that awaits him, by standing on the other side of the door. He is just frightened, Christine. You must try to understand. It is going to take a lot of time for him to get used to the fact that he no longer has..." Nadir became silent, unable to finish his _oh so moving _speech. Christine sighed, folding her arms over her chest.

"That's great and all, but I'm about four months pregnant with his kid and if he doesn't get his ass to _my _side of the door, then I'm gonna find a new door and lock him outside of it." Christine gave Nadir a pat on the shoulder and turned around, trying to find a place where she could cool off the steam that emanated off her body. She just needed time alone - just her, herself, and her baby.

Before turning the corner out of Nadir's sight, Christine sighed and looked at The Persian who stood shocked, a bag of black pens in hand, and a jaw agape. She almost was living vicariously through him, she could feel the shock of the news of her pregnancy through him so hard, she almost had to sit down herself. The Persian gradually walked towards Christine, his eyes still wide with stupefaction. His hands met her gown covered stomach, a bump that was there, but barely since she was so skinny. Raoul was sure that she would start eating a great deal, now that she actually had the knowledge that she would be eating for two. The Persian said a silent prayer to Allah in Farsi, blessing the unborn child. Standing to meet Christine's appreciative green eyes, Nadir placed a kiss on her forehead, trying to comfort the overwhelmed girl. He truly just wanted her to feel at peace with herself and with Erik. Little did he know that that is all she wanted as well.

"He knows that I still love him, right?" Christine mumbled, placing her hands protectively on the growing bump. Nadir let out a truncated laugh.

"Of course, my love. It is not _you_ he is afraid of, it is the _common _people - he calls it - that he is afraid of, the ones who are quick to judge and slow to listen, those are the people he is afraid of, my love." Christine sat down on a bench next to Nadir, adjusting her gown. "He bears too many burdens. He feels as though this his fault and now, this is another albatross he must bear around his neck."

"He couldn't have stopped it. Things like this happen and... It's just life." Christine shrugged, shaking her head. "Do you know what happened or how it happened?" Nadir nodded confirming Christine's suspicions, but he remained silent.

"That is for Erik to tell you, not for me to expose. When he is ready, he will tell you. For now, just be his wife, his lover, his friend. That is all he needs... He just needs someone to comfort him." Christine felt like sobbing, screaming. She felt like running away and drowning herself in the deepest ocean. She could not bear the thought of Erik bearing yet another burden.

"He's strong, he'll get through this. I know he will." Christine mumbled, trying to mask her tears that wanted to painfully cascade down her warm cheeks. "I'll always love him... Always." Nadir squeezed her hand as she rested her head upon his shoulder. Finally, she asked the question that had been on her mind since Raoul confessed about Erik's condition. "Where does it end?"

"Fortunately, it is below the knee. Thank Allah that they were able to recover his knee." Christine slowly nodded, trying to remember what the French doctor had told her.

"I thought his knee was shattered?" Christine pondered.

"It seems as though it was just fractured. They recovered it after they took the rods out and put a metal plate in instead. It is wonderful the technology they have today." Nadir smiled softly, trying to make the best out of the situation. "I have seen it, it is a odd sight, but they did a marvelous job. When it heals, it will look much better."

"Really? What does Erik think?" Nadir scoffed, giving Christine the answer to her question. "Well, I mean... He might like it when it's healed. I hear they have amazing prosthetic legs nowadays." With a final exhale, Christine stood to her feet and held out her hand to The Persian, smiling widely just hoping that Erik would be in a better mood, knowing that he had time to process that he was going to be a not only a business man, a composer, and connoisseur of art and wine, but also a _father._

"Besides, he might experience _the phantom limb _sensation with his amputated leg, doesn't that sound like something he would enjoy?"

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**A/N: Just a quick little side note here... If you all remember in last chapter, the French doctor told Christine that the other option was amputation and it is implied that Erik, seeing no improvement in his body, had to take the other option... Being amputation of his leg. Which one it is, you don't know yet! Okok don't get mad at me... It is for dramatic purposes! It think it's quite nice, really. **

**i myself, the author, have an amputated leg. It's going to be nice to relate to Erik in this way. the character of Erik in General of being a recluse, because of his deformity is definitely relatable to me. I was born without a leg below my right knee & missing fingers... And such... I mean, I'm not such a recluse to his extreme degree, but I feel for him and I relate to him more so than any other musical character. That is why I like writing him so much and why I decided to take this road with him. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, as I enjoyed writing it! **

**and if you noticed a little baby dialer is on its way... Parker is gonna have a sibling! Yay! Okay... Anyway... It's 4am and I'm exhausted. **

**Goodnight my Lovely Dialers. Until the next update. **

**Thank you for reading & reviewing. I love you all. **


	18. Chapter 18

**Cross It, Crack It, Switch, Update It**

**A/N: sorry for the short chapter! Four days until I'm moving & it's crazy around here! Thanks for waiting & reading! I love you! **

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After _profusely_ trying to convince Erik for what seemed like an eternity that Christine was truly indeed pregnant and it was not just a clever ruse to get _her _on _his _side of the door, Erik finally believed Nadir. As stubborn as mule though, Erik only after believed Nadir following the fact that Raoul had shown Erik copious amounts of sonograms, charts, and cold hard facts proving that Christine was actually with child. Raoul had ordered that Christine return to the villa to get cleaned up and to received some proper rest in a comfortable bed. With the turmoil the baby had already been in, it was time that Christine now aware of her child, take care of her unborn child as best as she could. Erik argued endlessly with Raoul, not fully comprehending that it was also _his _child she bore and that he _too _should get a say, if not all the say, as to where Christine should be housed (Which was always under Erik's watchful eye). The masked man did not trust the doctor and his divergent plan to part the mother and wife, from the father and husband. To be perfectly honest, the masked man did not trust the doctor and his intentions with Christine, ever in the history of knowing the doctor. He was handsome, beautiful, _normal, _and that was Erik's weak point. He held no fair contest when it came to fight against the doctor and he knew very well what the outcome of that battle would be, should it happen in the future. It is The Beauty versus The Beast, for it is in the hands of the fair maiden that the future is held so preciously.

"A baby, in there. My baby, that is quite interesting." Erik pointed to Christine's slight baby bump. She had returned from the villa to give him more sheet music. This was the first time she had seen him in almost three weeks. "You are sixteen weeks along, almost four months. Do you feel any different, Christine?"

"No. Besides my aversion to chicken, I feel fine, really." Erik made note of her detestation towards poultry. "How are you doing? Does your leg hurt at all? Do you need anything?"

"Christine, _it_ is not a leg anymore. It is simply a stump, a short thing... A deformity. If you must know, I am perfectly-"

"Erik, goddamnit! I want the truth." Erik flinched at her raised voice, dropping his black ink pen on the floor. She paused momentarily, bending over to pick the pen off of the tile. With a release of breath, she handed the pen back to her husband and looked into his golden eyes. "I'm sorry. I just worry constantly about you. I love you, Erik... I just want what's best for you and I know this is extremely difficult... I want to be here for you, I do, but you _have_ to be truthful with me. You have to tell me if you're not okay, if you're hurting."

Erik peered down at the woman who had buried her face into her hands. She was frustrated at his stoic nature. Surely, he had to be feeling _something _towards his situation. Nothing was moving his emotions, not the traumatic experience he was being put through, not the fact that his wife was almost four months pregnant, and definitely not the fact that she was clearly aggravated with him. He sat against the pillows, eyeing the sheet music beneath him, avoiding eye contact with his wife. He could not bear to look at here tear stained cheeks, her sunken eyes, and her quivering lips. He loathed himself for making her cry, for making her weep an intolerable sadness, but what other option did he have, but to remain emotionless towards his predicament? He needed to be strong for his family, for the sake of the foundation he built for the three, now four members of his familial unit. He could not falter or shatter beneath Christine and Parker. Having his leg amputated was just another obstacle he would have to overcome in due time and overcome it, he shall. He knew his duties as a husband and father were far more important than losing his leg, he knew that there was soon going to be a baby in the house. There was no time for weakness or emotion. There was only time for recovery and planning, something Erik prided himself on throughout the years.

"Christine, forgive me. Please, forgive me... I am sorry for being so rude to you. This is a change for me and I have to learn to take in stride. I want to be there for you, Parker, and now the unborn child. I will do my best to recovery quickly, in order to help with the pregnancy, the labor, the birth... Anything you need. I just ask for your forgiveness, please Christine. Everything I do, I do for you." The woman exhaled shakily, lifting her head slowly to gain eye contact with her husband. Glistening salty pearls attached to her lashes as she nodded in acceptance of Erik's apology, grabbing his hand in reassurance.

"There's nothing to forgive." She smiled tenderly, placing a kiss on the dry skin of his knuckles. "I want you to focus on recovery and getting healed. First thing is first, your stitches need to dissolve and the edema needs to be alleviated, completely cured before the prosthetist will be able to cast you for your first leg. Now, I don't know how hi-tech you want it to be, but I definitely want it to be quality. Since your knee is still very weak, I've opted to have you use crutches while getting used to the prosthesis, just in case it gets sore." Christine went on and on about the different types of prosthetic legs that Erik might want to try and the variations of sockets that could be made.

Erik simply sat in amazement of his wife. Clearly, she had done her research. Christine and Erik agreed that he would not be cast for a prosthetic leg until they got back until New York, which would be in three days time. Christine was excited to see Parker, which it would almost be a whole month since she and Erik had left for their honeymoon. Christine left about an hour later, leaving Erik to get some rest. After all, Erik always told Christine that sleep was the medicine. Christine went to look for Nadir, who was in the cafeteria. Christine made sure that their travel plans could be arranged quickly and efficiently, making certain that Raoul would be returning with them. Erik tried arguing against it, but Christine convinced her husband that she needed her doctor on call just in case an emergency happened on the flight. With Erik unable to work regularly heading his business, Nadir had been vigorously trying to keep Erik's business from going under since the couple's much overdue stay in Soufrière.

"Your ex-boyfriend called and many times, I might add." Christine's eyes widened, her heart stopping in her chest. She was sure her child's heart stopped as well. "He was curious as to why you were not at the penthouse when he dropped by the other day. He was suspicious as to why Parker was with Ms. Giry as well." Nadir looked at Christine from over his glasses, typing away simultaneously as Christine began to sweat nervously at her brow.

"What? How? How do you know that? What did he want? Is he still there? Did he take anything from us? Did he leave a message? Where is he now? Did he leave his number? Does Erik know about Cameron's visit? Does Cameron know I'm pregnant? Is Parker okay? What about Meg? Is she okay?" The profuse amount of questions fell out of Christine's mouth at a rapid pace, overwhelming Nadir. They were slurred, attached at the ends and joined at the beginnings. He could not quite make out the middle sections of the questions, but he tried to make do with what he was given by the pale faced, panic-stricken woman.

"My dear, my dear, you must calm yourself." Nadir consoled Christine, placing his laptop to a closed position. "He did not take anything from you. Your son and friend are safe, I assure you. Erik does not know of his visit and I do not know of his whereabouts. You know what I know, now. He did not leave a message. If he did, I would have most certainly told you. You must relax before you have an aneurysm. Be still my child, he is not with us." Nadir sighed at the sight of a distraught Christine. He was no doctor, but he knew for a fact that being stressed was no good while being pregnant.

"Parker and Meg have to come here, to Soufrière." Christine suddenly spoke. Nadir's head jerked towards the woman's voice, his thick eyebrows furrowing inwards, trying to comprehend her ridiculous statement. "It's the only place that's safe and away from him."

"The _only _place that is safe? With all due respect my love, but New York is quite large and there are many places in the state of New York that _he _would not dare to look for you and your family, including Ms. Giry. Please, think about this in detail before you move your whole life to an island that you barely know." Christine's mind was wandering, aimlessly and thoughtlessly as she sat at the table with big eyes and The Persian. "Soufrière is no place for a deaf child and an amputee, let alone a place for a woman with severe emotional and mental disorders-"

Christine stilled, Nadir froze. The hospital, the orderlies, the earth stood at a halt. Nadir could physically feel his heart sink gradually into the black abyss of his stomach. He could hear the last beat of Christine's heart as she listened to his harsh words spit like fire between his lips. Nadir made no sudden movements for the girl as she sat like a statue across from him, unmoving, not blinking, and surely, not breathing. Nadir certainly did not mean to say those words about her, but he also did expect her to be aware that she already knew of her disorders. He assumed that she was on medication of some sort to ease her panic attacks, to alleviate the PTSD of whatever she may have suffered. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the hazel-eyed doctor approach their table, uneasy of Christine's condition. Had she gone into shock? Moments ago she was heaving about her ex boyfriend hounding her and her family, yet now she sits like a rock. Raoul waved his hand in front of her face, trying to get a reaction, but was soon disappointed when Christine did not respond. Turning towards The Persian, Nadir shook his head and explained the situation. Raoul growled at The Persian, rapidly shining his light in her eyes while simultaneously scolding Nadir of his wrong doings. Nadir was apologizing, gathering his belongings while Raoul checked her pulse. It was weak, but still apparent. Raoul scooped the girl into his arms and pressed a hand to her forehead, a fever. Nadir cursed himself for making her this way, asking Allah for forgiveness, only knowing that it was Erik that he should really be begging for forgiveness at a time such as this.

"105..." Raoul stumbled backwards, rubbing his eyes at his thermometer. Shaking out the thermometer, he walked towards Christine once again. "No, it can't be that high..." He moved her hair over and pressed the thermometer in her ear gently again. "106... SHIT!" Raoul dropped the thermometer on the ground, grabbing his hair in a fit of frustration. He felt like crying. Trying to get his emotions centered, he took a deep breath and looked up at the two nurses. "J'ai besoin de chiffons mouillés maintenant!"

"Oui!" The black haired nurse nodded, running out of the room quickly. Raoul was breathing heavily, trying to think on his toes. He knew that high fevers risk birth defects in pregnancy, but he wanted to avoid giving Christine acetaminophen at all costs. If he could just get the fever down to 102 degrees naturally... Hopefully, the wet cloths will help Christine.

"Assurez-vous qu'elle et le bébé ont fluides. Nous voulons que cette fièvre de descendre naturellement avant d'ajouter n'importe quel médicament." The other nurse got to working on the IV, following Raoul's instruction to pump fluids into Christine.

Raoul _desperately _needed to get her fever down naturally before resorting to medically decreasing this fever. He did not want to risk anything with this child, her child, no matter _how _much he hated Erik. Raoul circled Christine, taking her vitals again. Her fever remained at a stagnant 106 degrees. Raoul thanked _someone _that it was not climbing. The baby's vitals seemed to be fine, the heartbeat was strong and there was nothing out of the ordinary. He hoped for the best, but as always, expected the worst.

"I did not know you spoke French." The Persian interrupted Raoul's thoughts as he leaned against the doorframe.

"My mother is very French, I grew up with the language." Raoul wondered if he was mumbling in French again. "My last name is French, you know. Does Christine speak French at all? I know her last name is French as well."

"I do not believe she does. I do not know if she was brought up with the language or not. I do not know much about her, really. Erik does not pry into her past life and she does not share much. All I know is that her father died when the summer before she went to college and her mother died in child birth, so she says." Raoul hummed along to his story, trying to grasp Christine's life.

From what she had shared with him (and that was very little), she had a decent childhood with her father. She did not share much, but once she found Meg, that is when all the stories began. Meg took her under her wing and they went to college together. It was not until Cameron came along that she developed all these psychological disorders, so it seemed to Raoul, but Raoul was no psychologist. Meg was truly a God-send though. If it were not for Meg, Raoul truly believed that Christine would have stayed with Cameron or worse, Christine would be dead and so would Parker. Raoul feared for Christine, all the time. It was not the kind of overbearing, always domineering fear that Erik had for Christine. It was the kind of fear that was tender, delicate and precious. It was the kind of fear that was unspoken and could never be spoken, but for some reason, they always knew it was there. It was a beautiful fear that Erik would never understand. Erik would never comprehend it, because he is too afraid to be immersed by his own emotions. Raoul fears for Christine with such a passion that Erik does not have, because Erik simply refuses to have it. That is the difference between the two men and Christine knows it. Nadir sees it and acknowledges it. Christine is very aware of the two men and their differences. Yet she does not know the power that fear has. She does not know what it can wield. Christine does not know that fear can turn to love.

"So she says? Don't you believe her?" Nadir shrugged unknowingly, sitting in the chair beside Christine. "What makes you think she's lying?"

"Well, as you know, she's very fragile. She screams and kicks her legs at everything, then freezes at anything. Something must have happened long before this Cameron came into her life and made it even more miserable than it already was." Raoul was suspicious. He tilted his head at the man, not liking where this conversation was going. For the sake of Christine though, Raoul continued, although he already completely disgusted with the man.

"With all due respect, I think what Cameron did to her is enough probable cause for what she's going through now. I don't think she needs more things on top of the things she has currently, Mr. Khan." Raoul came off rudely, but he did not care. Truly, he was defending Christine. "I'm no psychologist, but I can definitely tell you that _rape _is more than enough reason for her outbursts, Mr. Khan. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very sick patient who is in dire need of my assistance." Raoul pointed to the door, his expression steadfast and unwavering. Nadir rose to his feet, nodding in understanding. Turning towards the door, Nadir looked at Christine, the heat from her straightener beginning to give out as she laid there breathing lightly to the patterned beeping. With a glance of pure gravelly truth, Nadir peered into the doctor's hazel eyes, questioning everything the man believed in, stood for, and defended as he turned on his heel and returned to the man whose wife laid semi-unconscious before him.

"_Rape? _My good monsieur, maybe _she _shall tell you the story when she wakes."

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**A/N: **

**OK PERSONAL THING FROM A REAL LIFE AMPUTEE **

**I ACTUALLY _HATE_ THE WORD _STUMP_ AND I NEVER CALL MY LEG THAT. I NAMED MY LEG (his name is Joey) AND I ACTUALLY HATE WHEN MY MOM OR ANYONE CALLS MY LEG _STUMP _OR ANY VARIATION OF THE WORD (i.e. stumpy). I JUST MAY NAME HIS, BUT PLEASE BEAR WITH ME THROUGH THIS DIFFICULT TIME WHILE I EXCRUCIATINGLY HAVE TO FORCE MYSELF TO TYPE _STUMP_... WHILE I THINK OF AN ALTERNATIVE... **

**ok anyway, it's 3:30am, & I'm exchausted! I'm sorry for the short chapter, but I hope you enjoyed. thank you for reading & I hope you review! **

**i love you! **

**Ps. yes, my leg is a boy... and yes... I am a girl... I guess you could say that I sleep with a boy every night ;) how scandy! just kidding. **

**The Angel of Music is very strict and he does not allow that sort of behavior. That means you. Yes you, the one who is reading this on their phone at 4am, in bed, when really you should be sleeping. **


	19. Chapter 19

**Do Not Disturb **

**A sad chapter for a sad day. **

**Writing this chapter a bit differently, just because I am cramped for time and I feel like it. I hope you enjoy. **

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When they arrived back in New York, Erik was unamused at the the fact that he was confined to a wheelchair. He was more unenthusiastic at the thought of his wife pushing him around the penthouse at almost four months pregnant. Until he could get his new prosthetic leg, he was defenseless, something he never wanted to be. Parker understood perfectly what happened to his father and wanted to help as much as he could, but there wasn't much he could do during the day because he was at school. He would help his mom with dinner and clean up the dishes, aiding his mom in a greater way than she could ever express. Christine would be obliged to put Erik in the guest bath. She ordered for a bench to be put in their shower, a more suitable situation for an amputee. Until their bathroom was remodeled, Erik was forced to take baths, yet another thing he despised. Fully functioning with the crutches, his first appointment with his new prosthetist was soon and Christine was due for an appointment at the obstetrician. Erik planned on going to both appointments, his new injury being inconsequential in comparison to the brand new arrival that was to come in five months. He just hoped he would be walking by then and so much more. He planned on being able to wake up at three in the morning to feed his son or daughter, to sing them to sleep and to write them lullabies. He _could not_ do that from a wheelchair. He _would not_ do that from a wheelchair.

"Your edema is shedding very quickly, quicker than I've ever seen it!" Dave smiled widely at the stoic Erik, examining the amputated limb. The stitches were still there, still healing. "Does it hurt at all?"

"No." Christine rolled her eyes. "Do not pay any mind to my wife. She knows nothing of my problems, Dave." Christine smiled awkwardly, pulling out her phone to distract herself from the obvious tension that was arising in the room. "When will you cast me for a prosthetic leg?"

"I want to make sure we get the edema down as low as we can. I want the leg to be as small and comfortable as possible. We'll be using a drop pin system, it'll be the most beneficial, seeing that your knee is still recovering. Once the edema and stitches heal, we'll be able to cast and I'll make your first test socket. It'll take a while to get the first leg done, it's definitely a process. Your leg looks healthy, though. It's healing quickly." Erik narrowed his eyes at the older gentleman.

"You did not answer my question." Erik simply stated. "When you will be able to cast me for my first prosthetic leg? If not today, then when shall I return for that appointment?" Christine glanced up from her phone, trying to decide if she should intervene.

She knew her husband was going to be rude to the doctor. Erik was rude to her and rude to everybody else. Why would his prosthetist be treated any differently, especially him? She tried blaming it on the medication or the recovery, but she stopped blaming that once they took him off the morphine drip in the hospital and he was writing music again. It had been almost two weeks since they left Soufrière. Christine was now four months pregnant and showing, not much, but clearly pregnant. Erik was cantankerous all of the time, short and curt with Christine, and ill-mannered any time he was not grumpy. The only person he was decent with was Parker and thank God for that.

"Why don't we try for next month-"

"NEXT MONTH?" Erik shot up on his crutches, towering over Dave who sat on his stool. "I CANNOT WAIT A MONTH FOR A LEG, DAVE! I HAVE A WIFE WHO IS FOUR MONTHS PREGNANT AND A DEAF SON WHO IS IN CONSTANT NEED OF MEDICATION AND ASSISTANCE!" Christine shut her eyes. She was embarrassed, she was saddened by the crack in his voice. She was broken, emotionally and physically. "I do not have the time to wait a month for a leg. I do not have luxury to sit in a wheelchair as my pregnant wife pushes me around, while I wait for a prosthetic leg. I do not think you quite comprehend the direness of my situation!" Christine was standing, slowly pushing Erik back down to a sitting position. She was crying.

"E-Erik, sit down. J-Just sit..." She cupped his uncovered cheek and shook her head.

"No! I will not-"

"ERIK, JUST SIT HERE AND SHUT THE FUCK UP, GODDAMNIT!" Her lips had formed a tight line, her eyes shutting tightly as tears streamed down her rosy cheeks. Erik finally saw the damage he caused her and he remained silent to take it all in, brick by brick, stone by stone. "We will be r-right b-back." Christine ushered the prosthetist out of the room, leaving Erik alone to think about his predicament.

"This is a hard time for everyone, I'm sorry for not being more understanding. Losing a limb... I can't..." Christine raised her hand in detestation. She wanted him to stop speaking immediately. Wiping her tears, she took a deep breath in and looked at the older man.

"He is fine. Don't worry about Erik, just ignore whatever he says to you." Dave nodded. "Is there any way you can cast him for a leg today? Even with the stitches? I know his leg is still very swollen, but it would make him feel better and he just needs the reassurance that there will be a leg - that there is a light at the end of the tunnel, Dave." The doctor sighed to himself, scratching his forehead.

"It would be pointless, really. His leg is just gonna keep shrinking, losing that edema. I would just have to recast him in a month, it would be pointless to cast him today with the edema still swollen." Christine bit her tongue, clenched her jaw, and took another deep breath.

"Doctor..." She began with an aggravated nod. "Did you notice the mask on his face?" He thought for a moment, finally remembering the black mask that Erik fashioned. "He bears a horrible gun shot wound. They couldn't reconstruct his face, it was so terrible. He doesn't have a cheek bone and truly, it's gruesome. Losing his leg, is just another deformity, another brick in the wall... That's how he sees it."

"How do you see it?" Christine smiled softly to herself.

"I see it as a great gift." Erik had cracked the door opened behind her, Dave noticed, but Christine did not.

"He lost his leg, it's hardly something to be celebrated." Christine laughed slightly, the color slowly returning to her face.

"See, that's where you are wrong," She began again. "A prosthetic leg is worn with pride and dignity. It's a Medal of Honor, a shield of humility and courage. It's not like his mask, something that he hides behind, because he's afraid and frightened. No, a prosthetic leg is made to inspire and display. A prosthetic leg is made to flaunt and galavant. It's made to uplift those who have fallen so far down that all they see is darkness all around them." Erik smiled widely as he leaned against the cool wall, closing his eyes as he listened to his wife's soothing voice. "Erik doesn't know that what he has is a gift, a gift to himself and others. Sure, he's a bit cranky now and at other times, but he has every right to be. He'll soon realize though, that losing his leg will be the best thing ever to happen. He'll write the most magnificent music about it, the most majestic score about an inspiring tale of a man who lost something, yet gained everything. I know Erik better than he knows himself, Dave." Christine closed her eyes as she let her tears fall, the sound of Erik's sweet and intoxicating music filling her ears. "It will make him soar to places he's never even imagined."

Erik smiled at his wife's revelation. He never knew that she was looking at this situation so positively before. It enlightened him dearly as she returned to the room with Dave, her tears swept away and gone of their troubles.

"One month would be fine, Dave. I am sorry to have yelled at you." Erik interjected before the two could even take their seats. "This change has been quite hard on me - on all of us. I just need to learn how to take it into stride. My fear of this injury will turn into love, with the correct amount of work." Christine blushed softly as her husband's smooth words. She was enticed at his silky voice, his melodic undertone.

"I can't imagine loosing my leg, Mr. Deslow. You're very brave." Dave nodded softly, grabbing his clipboard.

"We all come with fears and tribulations. We all carry bravery, it is the true test if we hone in on that bravery, though."

* * *

Erik sat in front of the TV, soaking his amputated leg in a basin of warm salt water, allowing the dead skin to sift off and hopefully giving the stitches a chance to loosen. Christine was in the bedroom, hanging her new maternity clothes in the closet while Parker did his homework in his room with Meg. She came over twice a week to help Parker, since Erik was unable to walk and Christine had to tend to Erik more often.

"Erik, where are your t-shirts, the ones I got you from the city?" Erik groaned, lightly dousing his knee with warm water.

"I do not know." Erik called back to Christine's muffled voice as he watched a special on Mozart. "I believe I threw them out or gave them to Nadir to throw out... To charity." Christine was immediately standing in front of the TV, her eyes narrowed on the annoyed man. Erik knew that Christine enjoyed the t-shirts, but he thought that he outgrew that phase of his life and he much enjoyed his dress shirts better. It was past Christmas and he was to return to work very soon. Vests and ties were of a necessity, something that Christine would not have understood.

"Why would you give them to charity and not to me? I could really use them right now. Maternity clothes are expensive!" Erik just stared at the whining woman.

"Money is of no issue for us, Christine. You know that, Angel. If you need maternity clothes, you may buy them. You do not need my permission." Christine's nostrils flared, her jaw tightening. "My love, maternity clothes are essential. You may buy them."

"Whatever, Erik. Just watch your damn TV show." Christine stomped away and slammed the door to the bedroom. Erik sighed heavily, removing his amputated leg from the basin. With a towel, he dried it gently and checked the stitches.

"Christine!" Erik called out, hoping that she would come out of their bedroom. He heard shuffling behind the door, but no Christine appeared in front of him. With another groan, he tried once more. "CHRISTINE!"

"WHAT!?" She screamed back from inside the confines of the bedroom. Erik smiled widely at his success.

"Come here, Angel. I need your help getting to the kitchen. Would you bring the wheelchair?" Soon, Christine appeared with the wheelchair and a less than pleased look on her face.

She spoke not one word to her husband, only shoving the wheelchair to his direction and leaving towards her son's room. Erik sat confusedly, moving his body to the wheelchair, not bothering with the basin of water. She was fuming and Erik did not know why. She was heaving, panting, and surely it was not good for the baby. Erik wheeled himself over to his son's room, trying to listen to the conversation. It was muffled; girls were usually exceptionally good at whispering. He could movement, slamming of drawers. Erik moved back from the bedroom door and into the foyer, trying to decipher what went wrong in the bedroom. Did he dare venture into the bedroom to explore himself or would his angry wife explain everything?

"NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE! YOU'RE PREGNANT!" Meg's dragged out scream was muffled with the sound of the clashing of doors and drawers in Parker's room. Suddenly, the sound of a broken lamp broke out and Erik was pounding on the door to be let into the room. He switched the light on incessantly, but was denied entranced. He needed to get to son, desperately and he needed to find his wife. "STOP IT! YOU'RE JUST BEING DUMB, BECAUSE YOU'RE PREGNANT!" Erik could not help, but agree.

"NO! I'M TAKING PARKER AND I'M GOING TO RAOUL'S HOUSE!" Erik's eyes widened, his anger building as he rushed to the kitchen to grab the chair to break through the bedroom door. Yet again, Parker will need another bedroom door. "HE DOESN'T EVEN LOVE ME!"

"HE ONLY LOVES YOU, YOU PSYCHO BITCH!" Erik paused before knocking the door down, the sound of Christine's sobs crushing his heart into a thousand pieces. "HE'S THE ONLY PERSON ON THIS GODDAMN EARTH THAT CAN STAND BEING AROUND YOU! PUT THAT FLASHLIGHT THE FUCK DOWN, CHRISTINE!"

"NO! HE DOESN'T LOVE ME! HE LOVES HER MORE THAN ME! I'M GOING TO RAOUL'S! HE LOVES ME! RAOUL LOVES ME! HE ALWAYS HAS!" Erik did not even take notice that the door had been opened and that Christine ran past him.

Parker was left behind, in tears and in pure terror. Erik was numb, heart broken. He knew that he was churlish and uncivil, but he did not ever expect Christine to leave him. Was she in her right mind? He did not know. It was not as if he could chase after her. Erik sat there in his wheelchair, frozen like a statue down to his bones, as Meg came out with a broken lamp in her hands. Her hair was awry and she was missing a shoe. She looked frightened. Parker grabbed her hand, unable to comprehend the situation. They all remained silent, their attention focused on the door that Christine slammed behind her, never actually knowing where she was going or who she was going to. None of them had the strength to find out, none of them had the will to do so.

* * *

Erik was in a panic. Christine had not returned all night. She left at 6:27pm and it was now 2:37am, there was no sign of her. She left her purse at the penthouse and her phone on the bed. Panic was an understatement. Erik figured that since she was with Raoul, she would not want to be contacted. Why would she want to be contacted at her new lover's address? Erik did not want to know the answer.

"Maybe you should call Raoul." Meg yawned looking at the clock. 3:19am. "It doesn't hurt to call, you know, just to make sure that she's alright." Erik glared at the blonde.

"I am not calling that imbecile. He could be very well having sexual intercourse with my wife right now and frankly, I rather not call him while that is taking place, mademoiselle." Meg blushed, taking out her phone.

"I'll call him then, Erik." He nodded simply as she dialed. Her eyes grew worried.

"I'm sorry it's so late." She replied. "No, it's not Erik this time. It's Christine, is she okay?" Meg almost dropped her phone. Her blue eyes met with Erik's in a state of distress. "What do you mean you don't know if she's okay?! She's with you! Go check on her, you idiot!" Erik could hear frantic yelling on the other line. "SHE'S NOT WITH YOU?! WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE, RAOUL?! I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD, IF YOU DID SOMETHING- No, Raoul. He doesn't want to talk to you." Erik groaned in pain, his patience wearing thin. He needed to find Christine this instant! Handing the phone to Erik, Meg flinched.

"Listen here you fop, if you so happened as to blink in her general direction, I will make sure to have your name stripped of your medical license and the good de Chagny name blown to smithereens! She is not your plaything to have sex with and toss to the side! She is _my_ wife! My wife and _not_ yours! " Erik seething, Meg could practically see the flames. "Has she called you at all since six this evening?" Erik pounded his fist on the table. "No... No... No!" Erik hung up and threw the phone at Meg. In realization, he cried out and punched the table, almost breaking it into two.

"What?! What?!" Meg tried calming him, but there was no use. Erik stood with his crutches, the crude images returning to his mind. "Erik, what's wrong? Does Raoul know where she is? Do _you_ know where she is? Oh God, what if she's dead!" Meg began to cry. With a rage so great he could burn with the glare of his eyes, he grabbed Meg by the shoulders and breathed out the cursed words that should have never been spoken in the first place.

"Cameron."

* * *

**A/N: Short chapter. Lots of things happening, though! **

**i hope you enjoyed reading & I hope you review. **

**i love you! **


	20. Chapter 20

**Blocked**

**A/N: I am so sorry for the delay! Rush has been so crazy and to think, the first two days are over and we still have nine left to go... Kill me now. Anyway, here is the update I've been waiting so long to post. Enjoy!**

**PS - It's short, because I'm having Internet problems and I typed part of it on my laptop, but the other half on my phone. I don't always have time to sit and type on my phone. I'm so sorry ): **

* * *

Christine awoke what felt like _years_ later, her head pounding with an unbearable pain, her body aching with intolerable agony. She could not remember how she got back home, to the penthouse. Erik's mask lay on the bedside table, untouched and unused. She tried very hard to think of how she got back home, in her bed. She was sure that she was at Raoul's house before she had seemingly blacked out and woke up in her home. Christine recalled that his frantic voice was pressed up against her ear as she hectically called the doctor. Christine knew that _he_ would help her. She knew that _he _would protect her. She also knew very well what her husband would think of her actions - calling Doctor Charter. Erik was torn between absolutely loathing Raoul Charter, despising him with every fiber of his being, and accepting him for what he could give Christine: a decent health. Erik so desperately pleaded for his newborn child to be _normal_ that he was willing to go to extreme lengths to assure that _normalcy _was in his baby's future. Although his deformities were not stemmed from birth, a part of him felt obligated to make certain that extra precautions were taken to confirm that his baby was going to be normal, beautiful, _exactly_ like Christine. _  
_

"Yes, everything is arranged until next Wednesday. Shall you encounter any problems, you can reach me through my assistant, Nadir Khan. Mr. Khan handles all my business related conflicts when I am not in my office or when I am on holiday." Erik paused as he clicked his prosthetic leg on, grabbing his crutches that were leaning on the bedside table. Pressing the phone to his ear, Erik stood on his good leg, trying to balance himself, muttering a few Italian curse words. "Thank you. I look forward to receiving your call and meeting you in person, Mr. Reyer." Erik hung up and threw his phone on the bed. Standing to his leg to balance himself, he grabbed his crutches and went out into the living room in hopes of finding his wife. Christine had not returned since the night she escaped to the doctor's home, leaving Meg, Erik, and Parker alone. Nothing had been the same since Erik lost everything and Christine gave everything.

* * *

_"Cameron." __Christine was long gone by the time Erik assumed that she ran off to the Antichrist's home. She hailed a cab and furiously wiped the stray tears off her frigid cheeks. She could not bear the thought of allowing him to see her like this. Pulling out her phone, she quickly checked her messages and nodded with an affirmative gaze, relaying her desired destination to the cab driver. All that was left was to wait. _

_Twenty so minutes passed by and Christine was violently shaken, her eyes shooting open to meet the brisk New York air._

_"Hey lady, we're here. Give me my fare and get the hell out of my cab." The Caucasian man growled at Christine, holding his greedy hand out to her. Christine reluctantly grabbed her purse and slapped a few twenty dollar bills in his hand and got out of the cab, scanning the tall apartment building. "Lady, I don't have change for you." _

_"Keep it, buddy. You know, for your efficiency, because I think we both know very well that I didn't give you almost two hundred dollars for your great people skills and excellent manners." Christine sneered at the man, stomping off to the front door. Moments later, she heard the cab drive off into the night. She shivered at the thought of her hand ever touching the cab driver's. Scanning the last name's written on the buzzer list, she finally landed on his name. Pressing the button to the right, she leaned forward and took a deep breath. _

_"Who is it?" Christine smiled at his deep voice. _

_"Christine and do you think you could buzz me in, Doc? It's freezing out here!" Before Christine could explain anything else, the buzzer went off and Christine journeyed to the fourth floor. She was nervous, to say the least. "4C..." Christine mumbled to herself as she walked down the narrow hallway, approaching the end of the corridor. Taking a cursory breath, she knocked on the door and awaited the one person she never lost trust in, ever. _

_"Miss Daaé, how nice it is to see you." _

_The green door opened slowly as Raoul's voice filled Christine's ears with a sweet sound she so longed to hear. She instantly felt warm down to her bones. His hair was a mess, his black glasses framing his chiseled face nicely. The attraction she felt when she first saw him in the hospital soon flooded back into the pit of her stomach. Matching his black glasses, his black t-shirt fit tightly around his fit arms. She never noticed his muscular arms due to his lab coat. His dark wash jeans hung lowly on his hips, his white socks sticking out beneath them. Christine was entranced by his welcoming smile. _

_"Raoul, I've missed you so much and may I say, I didn't know you wore glasses." The doctor smiled as he moved to the side, allowing Christine into his homely apartment - nothing like Christine imagined. _

_The furniture was simple, mostly consisting of browns. If there was thing to be made certain, it was that he did not hire a decorator. He had a few potted plants, but other than that, Christine noticed that his walls were bare and his counters were stripped of any sort of memorabilia. His drapes were red, matching the blanket on the couch. He had a few magazines dedicated to cars and motorcycles laying around and his laptop sitting on a desk in the corner of the living room. His kitchen was small, his bathroom not big enough to hold a bathtub. He had an office and a bedroom that was fit for one. Truly, Christine thought that Raoul would have lived in a penthouse too, being a doctor. She was delighted to be proven wrong. _

_"You can sleep in my room tonight, the couch pulls out, I'll be fine." Raoul smiled that charming smile again, leaning against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. Christine glanced down at the couch. "I'll make sure that my dog doesn't bother you either." _

_"You have a dog? I've always wanted a dog, but Erik doesn't want one in the penthouse." Christine looked down at her feet. "Where is your dog?" _

_"He's upstairs with Mrs. Valerius. I didn't know if you were allergic. I had her hold him until you arrived." Raoul smiled slightly, approaching the front door. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home, Christine. There's Chinese food in the refrigerator. I over-ordered again and I hate having left overs just sitting in there, so please eat up Christine." Raoul eventually left the green eyed girl alone in his apartment to her own devices. _

_Christine walked around the small vicinity, taking in the lack decorum. She paused for a moment in front of his bedroom door, which was shut closed. The paint was worn and the paint was chipping. Either Raoul was too humble to use his generous salary to pay for a new door or he was too cheap to pay for paint. Christine tried to go with the lesser of the two evils. Turning the doorknob, Christine pressed the door open and entered the cozy room. A king size bed was set in the middle, the navy blue duvet coordinating with the gray walls. Maybe he did have a decorator. There was a TV propped up onto a dresser in front of the bed, against the wall that was adjacent to the door. A dog bed sat in the corner, beside the bedside table; it was unused, leaving Christine to believe that it liked to cuddle. The room was plain, there were no pictures hanging on the bare gray walls. Christine immediately felt melancholy as she entered the room. She exited the room, not enjoying the feeling of it. Leaving to the office, she entered the room and was anticipating nothing, but what she imagined in her head. Papers stacked ceiling high and drawers stuffed full filled the room. His diplomas and degrees adorned the walls, while his prestigious medical awards were displayed in a glass box that was shoved in the corner, covered in dust. Raoul''s bookshelves were lined with medical books of all kinds, each a topic much too complex for Christine's mind. She was impressed with Raoul's medical knowledge. He never boasted about it, either. Something to admire in a man. Christine smiled at his weak effort the general upkeep of his apartment. He was genuine. It was something that Erik had to work to, it was something that Christine had to discover. With Raoul, his genuineness and humble aura came naturally, enticing Christine to an even bigger extent. Erik was mysterious - a quality all women look for in a man - but, he was almost too mysterious that it became a nuisance. Raoul never became a nuisance to Christine and these days, that was a rare feat in and of itself._

_"Enjoying the tour? I see you've made the rounds."_

* * *

Erik froze in his tracks as his breathing became shallow, erratic, and deep within the caverns of his chest. He was speechless, his mouth run dry. The two stood face to face, silently as the man set Erik's wife lifeless body down on the couch, her chest barely rising and falling. Christine's lip was swollen, her eye bruised and cheek swelled with redness. Erik could not even bare to think of what her skin looked like beneath her loose clothing as the black cloth engulfed her pale flesh. Erik was frightened at the sight of his motionless wife.

"Where did you find her?" Erik finally croaked out of his coarse throat, his eyes fixated on Christine.

"Does it matter?" No. It did not. Erik paused to move his gaze to the hazel eyed doctor. "I sedated her, Erik. She was delusional. She kept kicking her legs, attacking me. I knew that you wouldn't want to keep her in a hospital, so I brought her here." His tone was condescending. "The baby is unsafe here, Erik... A hospital is the optimal solution, but you're almost as stubborn as her. I don't suspect that she'll be moved to a hospital bed anytime soon." Erik narrowed his unmasked eyes at the doctor. Tilting his head, he clenched his fists and pulled back the muscles in his face, trying his hardest to suppress the growing anger inside him.

"She and the baby will be fine here, thank you." Erik used his crutches to move over to the desk, grabbing a small leather book. Taking the pen out of his book, he began to scribble down something, unclear to the doctor. Soon, the sound of ripping paper filled room, making certain Erik's intentions.

"Erik-"

"Here is four hundred dollars for your services. I am sure that is enough for pleasing my wife. Whatever caused her to end up as she is now, I am sure was not of your doing." Raoul's eyes widened as he looked at the check, his jaw hitting the tiled floor. "Shall she awake with any problems I cannot solve, I will make contact with you. Goodnight and good luck." Erik pointed to the front door, take a seat beside Christine, placing all attention on Christine. He could only hope that Raoul would soon leave the premise.

"You've got to be joking, Erik." Raoul's tone was stern, harsh. It pierced the living room. Erik turned around to face the doctor who had ripped the check in half. His eyes were full of rage and his jaw was quivering with anger, an anger he had never experienced in his life before.

"I make no such joke, Raoul." The doctor slowly approached Erik who was now standing with the help of his crutches. Raoul's fists were balled, his brow furrowed creating a _more than _noticeable crease in his forehead.

"Listen here and listen now, Erik." Raoul seethed through his clenched jaw. "When she wakes up, she'll have no recollection of how she got home. You have the choice to make up a story or tell her the truth." Erik moved to speak, but Raoul's hand flew up to stop him. "The truth being that she spent the night at my house to seek refuge, but by morning she was gone. I called and called, but I couldn't find her. By the time I found her, she was just as she is now." Raoul sighed, running a distressed hand through his hair. "She's very lucky that your child is still alive."

"Where did you find her, Raoul?" Erik's gaze was unwavering upon the doctor's face.

"I found her wandering around Times Square, her eyes were glazed over and she was stumbling around. She wasn't drunk, just dazed. It was like she was hypnotized." Erik froze, his bones cold as ice. "I tried to snap her out of her trance. I was yelling, shouting, hell I even threatened to call you. She was not herself." Raoul swallowed hard and shut his eyes. Erik noticed that his hands began to tremble, his head shaking back and forth in denial.

"She was hypnotized?" Erik was thoroughly confused. She had not been like _that _for such a long time. She had not been so petrified, so mystified since that one instance. "Did you say anything specific to her or was she glassy eyed when you found her?"

"Christine was like that when I saw her wandering down Times Square. That was until I mumbled something and she fell into my arms like a limp rag doll." Erik's head jerked up, his eyes wide with fear. "Please, you have to understand that what we did was against my will, she was... not herself..." Raoul was ashamed.

"Raoul... What did you say to her?" Raoul took a deep breath in and closed his eyes once more. He could not bare the thought of imagining the horrific event once more in his head.

"I prayed that Angels would watch over her, I prayed that you, Erik would keep her safe and sound." Raoul's breathing became sporadic. "What I saw, I didn't mean to see, Erik... She was... Sexually driven - She was unlike any patient I had ever seen." Erik looked down at the unconscious Christine who began to stir. She was groaning in pain, her hands instinctively flinging to her stomach. "I had to sedate her to make her stop, to try and shatter her attempts to have sex with me."

"Thank you." Erik simply stated, silence filling the room. Moments flew by where the two men gazed down upon Christine, her bruised and battered body a stomach churning sight. "There is something psychologically wrong with her. I just do not know what it is." Erik finally broke the silence. "She refuses to see a psychiatrist, psychologist, therapist... Specialist... I have tried to coax her into telling me, but she just starts panicking and I fear for the baby. I am lucky if I even get a hello these days." Erik's tone was broken, his voice cracking. Raoul had never seen him so devastated, so vulnerable. "I love her." Erik mumbled beneath his breath as he moved a fly away hair behind Christine's ear. Erik bent down, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her skin was warm, gentle. "I just wish that somehow, she was here again with me and I did not have to dream it."

"Erik, I..." Raoul let out a defeated sigh.

"No, you do not have to say a word. Christine and I have our issues, but we have prevailed thus far." Erik turned to meet Raoul's apologetic gaze. "I will call you when she wakes." Erik held out his hand in kindness, giving a soft smile. "I know that we have never gotten along, you and me, but I always have had a deep debt owed to you for all that you have done for my family. I respect you greatly, Raoul." The doctor smiled, shaking Erik's tight grip. Raoul wondered where Erik got all that strength from and why he was _just _a businessman.

"That means a lot to me, thank you." Erik nodded, leading Raoul to the front door. "By the way, there's something else you should know."

"What is that, Raoul?" Erik pondered.

"I called into work today and Christine's blood work came back to me." Erik raised his eyebrow. Raoul reassured him with a warm grin and a pat on the back, a sensation Erik was _definitely _not used to.

"What did you find?" Erik eyed the doctor, who was grinning from ear to ear. With one final exhale, Raoul looked over at Christine with such hope, his eyes gleaming with joy.

"You're going to have a daughter, Mr. Deslow."

* * *

**A/N: RUSH IS CRAZY. **

**COLLEGE IS CRAZY.**

**I'M SO TIRED.**

**I LOVE MY DIALERS.**

**GOODNIGHT.**

**THANK YOU FOR READING **

**AND HOPEFULLY REVIEWING.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Snap It, Work It, Quick, Erase It**

* * *

Four weeks later, Christine was back to her _normal _self, the news of her daughter bringing her great joy. Since finding out that their baby was in fact a girl, Christine's mood was altered_, indefinitely. _She was excited about life, singing around the house, and making sure Parker felt included and loved. The news of a daughter arriving in a little less than three months elated Christine in a way that Erik had not seen since they had first met. She was a new person, yet Erik could not shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong with the end of her pregnancy. With his luck, Christine would be lucky to go through the last months of her pregnancy without a flaw or hinderance, emotionally or mentally. Erik was tense about the subject. He endured hardships before, but a baby, oh a baby frightened him. He was not equipped to handle another _human. _His daughter might hate him, despise his music and recoil in fright. His daughter may think that he is unfair or believe that her mother is unfit for motherhood. His daughter may not love him, but with all these thoughts looming in Erik's mind, he believed in on solitary thing. Erik was going to love his daughter unconditionally and overwhelming, no matter what she may think of him, because as a child grows, it is the parent who is to blame for a child's inability to understand the world around them.

"What do you think about the name Isabella?" Christine was sprawled across the bed as she ran her fingertips gently on her bare belly.

"Any name you choose, will be just as beautiful as the child it is given to." Christine blushed deeply as Erik continued to rub Christine's swollen feet.

"You're going to make this very difficult for me, aren't you?" Christine smiled widely at her husband who gave a cheeky grin in response.

"What's in a name?" Erik began, earning a more than puzzled expression from Christine. "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet..." Erik placed a small kiss to the top of Christine's foot as he recited the infamous quote as his wife rolled her eyes, only to blush deeply in reply.

"Alright, Shakespeare... I get it, you don't care about what we name her-" Erik raised his hand to protest against his wife.

"I do care, I just think that any name _you _pick, will be a suitable name for our child. You always know what is best when it comes to children and you will certainly know what it is best when it comes to naming her." Christine blushed again at her husband's silky words.

"I really do like the name Isabella, though..." She mumbled under her breath. "Do you have any names that you might want to put in the name pool?" Erik thought for a moment as he pressed his thumbs into the ball of Christine's foot, earning a satisfied groan.

"I like the name Christine." The glowing mother smiled widely at the unmasked man as she hide her face to shield her deep red blush. "I also like the name Daaé."

"Erik, you can't name our child Christine Daaé. Then she would be Christine Daaé Christine Daaé. Do you hate our child?" Erik laughed softly as he switched feet. "_Besides _the name Christine, what other names do you like?"

"Hmmm..." Erik hummed an unfamiliar tune while he tenderly pressed on each pressure point, trying to relieve Christine of her pain. "I like the names Thalia or Evie - short for Evelyn."

"Evelyn Deslow, that sounds like a movie star." Christine smiled again, leaning back into the pillows. "Thalia Deslow sounds like a painter." Erik paused, furrowing his eyebrow inward, his mouth forming a thin line. "Is something wrong with being a movie star or a painter?"

"No, no... It is... I... Oh, Christine..." Erik took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "I changed my last name back to my original French last name, months ago. It was after my accident, I did not want to be associated with my accident. I changed it to the French last name for publicity reasons." Christine tilted her head in skepticism. "I also changed your last name and Parker's... We are DeDéaux's, now. Our daughter will be a DeDéaux." Christine's expression was unreadable for a moment, scaring Erik. He remained silent, though it killed him to know that she was expressionless.

"You changed my last name?" She finally questioned. "You changed Parker's last name, too?"

"Yes, Christine... I am sorry I did not tell you sooner, I just... There was never a good time to tell you." Christine nodded slowly, taking in the new information.

Suddenly, a wide grin appeared on her face, startling Erik. She leaned forward and cupped her husband's face. Placing kisses all over his uncovered face, she wrapped her arms loosely around his neck - as best as she could with her overwhelming stomach in between them.

"You are not mad with me?" Erik was confused, relieved to see that Christine was as excited as she was.

"No! Of course not, Erik." Her voice was feathery, gentle as could be. As her thumb padded over his marred cheek, she moved to connect her lips with his in an intimate kiss, only that could be shared by lovers. Pulling away ever-so-slightly, Christine smiled softly against his lips, the taste of him still lingering on her. "I've always wanted to be a DeDéaux."

* * *

Raoul and Erik remained distant acquaintances, never really moving past the handshaking phase. Christine did not seem to mind, she truly enjoyed that they could tolerate being in the same room together. Erik still _loathed _Raoul for the ,affection he had towards his wife, but he was able to _brush off _his hatred for a few spare moments while Raoul checked Christine's vitals every day, making certain that she was doing no less than perfectly as her pregnancy furthered. Christine thus far had no complications, it was the labor and birth that scared her. She read copiously about the process and she had even watched the video that one of her friends from her old work provided her. She cried herself to sleep that night and wished that she had never gotten pregnant. Giving birth frightened her deeply. Parker was c-sectioned, because he was practically three months premature and Christine was bleeding far too profusely to birth him naturally. Erik assured her everyday that he would be there beside her, through the birthing process. Nothing comforted her knowing that she still had two months to go.

"How does the baby get born?" Parker asked his dad with a confused expression. The now six year old, who began to read lips months ago, stared at his mother's protruding stomach with wife eyes.

"They are either born naturally or they are born through a Cesarean section." Erik finger spelled, 'Cesarean,' making certain that Parker grasped the concept.

"What is a natural birth?" Christine slapped a hand to her forehead as she watched the conversation take place. Erik's own eyes widened as he swallowed nervously, cracking his knuckles.

"It is..." Erik began, pausing in his motions. "A natural birth is when a mother pushes the baby out of her body." Parker was still confused. Christine gestured for Erik to go on, fully amused. "The mother, your mother, will have to push your little sister out her body. It will hurt very much for your mother, but in the end, you will have a sister. That is all that matters." Erik stood up, ending the conversation before it escalated to something more graphic. Excusing himself, he retreated to his office.

"Is father mad at me?" Parker asked with a frown. Christine sighed and scooted closer to her son. Pressing a kiss to his forehead, she smiled softly and shook her head.

"No, this is just something a mother needs t to do. You need to understand that having a baby is a difficult process, it is hard to describe without being graphic. He doesn't want to disgust you or tell you anything you aren't quite ready to hear, okay? He's just trying to protect you." Parker nodded with a smile as he watched his mother's hands moved with such grace. "When you are ready, you will learn. For now, just know that in two months, you will have a sister." Christine smiled, pressing a kiss on her son's forehead. Standing to her feet, she groaned in pain as her lower back felt an immense amount of pressure. She couldn't hold herself up long enough to diagnose the agony.

"Mother?" Parker tried helping his mother take a seat, but she was screaming too loudly to see what he was signing to her. "Mother!" Christine held her lower back in an excruciating pain as Erik ran to her side, scanning her body for any sign of external damage.

"Christine, Angel, where is your pain?" Erik brought his wife's face up by her chin, a bit aggressively, but he was desperate. "Christine, you _must_ answer me." Her eyes were shut closed as multiple tears escaped underneath her dark eyelashes. She was fervently shaking her head, screaming out in pain, grasping her stomach.

"Father, do something!" Parker was frantic as he watched his mother writhe in pain, his father wide eyed as he dialed an ambulance. His hands were trembling.

"Yes, hello. My wife, my Christine, she's having extreme pain, she's seven months pregnant. No, there's no blood. I don't know. No. Okay, we live on Fifth Avenue. Okay, thank you." Erik shoved the phone in his pocket, grabbing Christine's hand. "Angel, please... Angel, take deep breaths."

"E-Erik... It hurts... Erik..." Christine was sweating profusely, her cheeks red. She was squeezing his hand harshly, sure to leave a bruise tomorrow. "The baby... Is she o-okay?"

"You're not bleeding, but I can't diagnose anything internal, Christine." Erik's eyes were rapidly scanning every inch of her body as her breathing became sporadic, shallow. "The ambulance should be here soon, Angel. Please... Just stay awake, stay awake for me, stay awake for _Erik_..."

* * *

For the next twenty six hours, Christine's abdominal pain worsened with time. The diagnosis was an irritable uterus and the solution was immediate bed rest. Raoul insisted that she be put on a morphine drip, due to the severity of the pain. An IV was also given to quicken the maturity of their daughter's lungs, in case of an emergency premature birth. Raoul inquired that Christine be on bed rest to be monitored until she is cleared to go home, or not. Irritable uterus in fact, is quite common in the seventh month, but Erik was still stubborn to leave Christine's side for any work related event. Nadir tried his hardest to bring work to Erik, but it was nearly impossible to haul an eighty piece orchestra to the hospital. Erik's mind was not in the composing state, his protective side fully took over as he watched Christine toss and turn in pain each night. She feared for her daughter and Erik feared for Christine and the child within her - his child.

"This is _more than_ an irritable uterus, Doctor Charter!" Erik spat at the doctor in frustration as he pointed at Christine, who thankfully was asleep.

"I assure you that an irritable uterus is all she has, Erik. We've done multiple tests and scans of her womb. There is nothing wrong, besides an irritable uterus. All we can do is wait, let her body do the healing." Erik was furious as he balled his fists, slamming it into the door. Raoul flinched, shutting his eyes at the raging man.

"E-Erik?" Christine mumbled as she slowly awoke from her restless slumber.

"Damnit..." Erik turned around, hiding his bloody knuckle from his wife. "Go back to sleep, Christine. I am just going out to get some fresh air, I shall return." Christine groaned at the agony she was in, turning on her side.

"No, s-stay here with me... I need you here w-with me..." Her voice was meek, quiet and interrupted by her shallow breaths. Raoul sighed at the current state of Christine. Leaving the two alone, Erik shut his eyes, unable to form words. Silently, he walked over to his wife and took a seat beside her, wiping his blood hand onto his slacks.

"I will _never_ leave you, Angel." Erik reassured her as moved a wisp of her curls behind her ear. She barely let her natural curls out, it was a sight for sore eyes.

"E-Erik... If I die-"

"Christine, do not speak of such things!" Erik immediately stood to his feet, his eyes angry at the thought. Christine was too feeble to fight back. All she could muster up was a shaky sigh. "You will not die! Not today, not tomorrow, not ever, Christine!" Erik fell to his knees, kicking the chair aside. He grabbed her hands with a fierce grip, his golden eyes searching hers, desperately.

"I don't t-think I can hold o-on any longer, E-Erik..." Christine's emerald eyes had faded to a dull green, her eyelids heavy with morphine. Her hands were frail and her cheekbones were sunken. "It h-hurts too much..."

"Angel, I know... I know it hurts, b-but you must hold on, Angel! You must!" Erik cupped Christine's cheek. She had a fever. "Angel, stay awake for me, stay awake for Erik!" The masked man frantically searched for the emergency button, finally finding it behind the bed. Erik sat beside Christine, trying to prop her up while he impatiently waited for the doctor and nurses to arrive. "Christine, can you hear me?" Her eyelids were closing, her pulse fading.

"E-Erik... The b-baby..." Christine took a deep breath as she pointed to her stomach, her arm trembling with agonizing pain. "Help her..." Raoul and two nurses soon burst through the door, their faces gravelly as they began to check her vitals. Erik moved aside and watched meticulously, making certain that they did not harm her. Raoul knew that he would not leave, there was no point in asking.

"Temperature of 103, doctor." The tiny black haired nurse relayed to Raoul. The doctor nodded as he carefully disconnected Christine from all the wiring. Looking up at Erik who was now wide eyed, Raoul took a deep breath.

"We have to get this baby out or..." Raoul looked at the monitor.

"_Or_?" Erik growled in the doctor's face, grabbing him by the collar.

"Or something worse will occur, Erik. You have to trust me, for _her _sake." Erik's nostrils flared as he let the doctor go, stepping to the side. Raoul proceeded to check the monitors once again.

"Get her to the delivery room, she'll be needing an emergency c-section. Then, transfer her to the NICU and Christine to recovery. Have Erik escorted to the waiting room, please." Raoul gave Erik a reassuring gaze before wheeling a hyperventilating Christine out, only to receive an even angrier stare from Erik back.

Erik stormed off into the waiting room, pacing incessantly across the tiled floor. Making several calls to Nadir, Meg, and work, Erik never took a seat. He was too anxious, angry, and worried to be seated. Soon, Nadir and Meg joined him at the hospital. Parker had been dropped off at daycare before Meg headed down to the hospital. Erik did not stop pacing once the two others arrived. He thought the c-section was taking longer than usual, but e was no doctor. Though, he imagined he would make a better doctor than the fop called Doctor Charter. Nadir _thoroughly _disagrees.

"It was too severe to be Braxton Hicks contractions, Meg." Erik inquired at the blonde as he tapped his foot impatiently at the wall clock. "She just started screaming in pain, out of nothing it seemed."

"She seems to do that a lot, doesn't she?" Meg mumbled, earning a furrowed brow from the masked man. Nadir shut his eyes, trying to shield himself from the blonde's impending doom.

"Excuse you, Miss Giry?" Erik seethed through his closed jaw. "She seems to do _what _a lot?" Meg shook her head, trying to brush off what she had just sealed.

"It's nothing, Erik. I didn't mean it." Meg stood up, grabbing her purse. "If she ever makes it out of surgery, call me." Meg sighed heavily as she left the two gentleman in the waiting room. Erik was fuming.

"Do not listen to such a child, Erik. She is just as stressed as you are, my brother. You have bigger problems on your hands, like your wife and children." Nadir interrupted Erik's wandering mind as his kind hand landed in Erik's shoulder. Erik flinched at the sudden contact.

"Nadir, what if... What if Christine doesn't make it?" Erik looked down at the white tile, it all suddenly turning into a dark abyss below him. He could feel his legs sinking beneath him. "What if neither of them do?" Nadir exhaled a deep fit of air, trying to gather the words to comfort Erik, but nothing was coming to mind. With a heavy heart, Erik gave an understanding nod and stepped toward the empty corridor. He needed a moment alone with his thoughts. Soon, he was interrupted by the black haired nurse, emerged from the NICU doors.

"Mr. DeDéaux?" Her voice was calming as she approached Erik. Her brown eyes glimmered, a sight rarely seen in a hospital.

"Yes, I am Erik DeDéaux." The dark haired nurse flipped through her clipboard once before mentally confirming something. With a small smile, she ushered the masked man towards the NICU.

"I believe congratulations are in order, Mr. DeDéaux." She walked down the lengthy hallway, removing her gloves with haste. "You have a daughter, she is quite premature, but we are certain she will live." Soon, the two arrived at a large window. With eager eyes, Erik searched through the rows of tiny - much too tiny babies.

"Which baby is ours?" Erik was intrigued by each individual contraption that the babies were hooked up to, knowing that each condition of the baby was different.

"She's right there, Mr. DeDéaux. I put her in the front row for you, third from the left." The nurse pointed at a small baby, pale as could be. With a tiny tuft of curly brown hair, Erik knew she was Christine's daughter. The air was taken from his lungs as he looked upon his daughter, so fragile, so new to life. With a breathing tube attached to her, she looked so delicate. Erik could not help, but ache at the sight.

"She is a beautiful girl, like her mother." Erik finally exhaled, turning towards the now-gravelly nurse. "Christine... Is Christine..." Erik could not bare to finish the sentence.

"She is still in surgery, sir. I have not heard any further word about her, Mr. DeDéaux." Erik nodded with confirmation, trying to remain calm. Turning towards the window once more, he looked upon his daughter. "She doesn't have a name yet, you know." Erik smiled gently, glancing at his daughter once more. With a final breath, Erik pressed his palm against the glass as he tried to get as close to his daughter as possible, the voice of the one person he loved most permeating every fiber of his being as it heightened each sensation in his body like never before.

"Isabella, her name is Isabella."


	22. Chapter 22

**Shut Down and Restart**

* * *

_One Year Later _

Erik arose from his bed, the lacquered wood beneath him creaking with every hobbled step. He quite enjoyed awaking before dawn, watching the sunrise as he prepared for the day that awaited him. As the soft sound of the air conditioning running filled his ears, he put on his prosthetic and head towards his bathroom. It was much tinier than the one he had in New York, but it sufficed enough, fulfilling its duties of a bathroom. While the trickling beats of water resounded in the background, he glanced down at his leg. He was thankful that he had enough spare money to afford a waterproof prosthetic. It was such a hassle to have to take the old one off and on every time he wanted to shower or have a dip in the pool. Glancing out to the bedroom, the gathering of all-too-familiar curls sprawled out against the black satin sheets, began to stir. Erik walked out to the side of the bed, kneeling next to the bunch of curls, inhaling the sweet smell of coconut and Shea butter. Exhaling quietly, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss on the porcelain skin, careful not to wake his daughter, his Angel.

"D..." Isabella gurgled at her father as she reached up her arms, smiling widely with a toothless grin.

"Yes, that is it, Isabella! Can you say daddy? Daddy?" Erik lifted his daughter up as her identical green eyes looked into his, reminding him of the woman he knew so well.

"Da!" Erik smiled softly as he walked over to the crib filled with toys. "Da!"

"Yes, my love. Now, can you put those two words together? Can you say dada?" As Erik continued to coach his little wonder, he heard quiet footsteps behind him. Erik turned to face his son, who had the messiest of bed heads. Placing Isabella in the crib, Parker walked towards the crib jn curiosity.

"Does she know who I am?" Parker asked tiredly as he lifted one of her teddy bears to her.

"Of course, son. You are her older brother, her protector." Erik stepped away from the crib and to the kitchen, a much smaller room. "Are you hungry?" Parker nodded, leaning over the crib. Isabella's laughter could solve world hunger.

"Does she know that... Mother..." Erik halted in his motions, letting the refrigerator door swing open as he could feel his heart drop into his stomach.

"Christine..." Erik mumbled beneath his breath as the memory of his late wife flood the cavern of his mind. He would never escape that day, the day that the world stopped turning and the day forever was shattered into a million minuscule pieces.

* * *

_"Mr. DeDéaux?" Erik quickly paced over to the doctor, who was still in his scrubs. It had been fifteen hours since Christine went into surgery and Erik had not rested a bit. That would be forty one hours since he had slept or eaten. Erik was becoming delusional in all cases. "I am Doctor Sellers."_

_"Yes, I am Erik DeDéaux. Please, tell me you have some good news!" Erik practically lunged at the doctor. The doctor just blinked at the masked man. _

_"Can we... Why don't we take a walk?" Erik's face paled. As the doctor gestured towards the long and narrow corridor, Erik prayed that Christine was still alive. _

_"What is this about? Where is Christine? When can I see her, Doctor? What about Doctor Charter?" The doctor swallowed hard as they continued to walk very slowly, too slow for Erik's liking. "Doctor, please, I do not have time for this stalling!" _

_"Mr. DeDéaux-" _

_"Erik, please. Formalities are inconsequential at a time such as this one." The doctor nodded again. _

_"Erik, your wife was bleed profusely when we performed the c-section, more so than any other normal c-section. I saw in her record that she had a herniated disk and surgery to fix that, yes?" Erik nodded in affirmation. "Erik... There are no warning signs to having blood clots in the leg's and pelvic area... Most times, they break off and travel to the lungs... Causing a pulmonary embolism..." _

_"No..." Erik stumbled against the wall as the doctor watched the man's world crumble around him. _

_"Usually, if the blood clot is found early enough, we are able to treat it with a blood thinner, but in Christine's case, it had already formed and traveled to her lungs..." Erik slid down onto the floor as he collapsed in the fetal position, like a child cowering from his mother. "As soon as we removed your daughter from her womb... It had gone flat... She... She didn't even get to her hold her daughter..." _

_"N-No!" Erik roared as he stood to his feet, grabbing the doctor by the collar. Erik's hands were trembling. No, it was not a threatening grasp. It was a pleading grasp. "No! It cannot be true! S-She cannot be g-gone!" _

_"Erik, I'm sorry... We tried everything-" _

_"YOU DID NOT TRY HARD ENOUGH!" Erik threw the doctor to the floor, slamming his fist against the wall. Through the blurrines of his tears, he could see The Persian running towards him. "She is gone... Gone!" The Persian kneeled down to help the doctor to his feet. _

_"Erik, brother, you have to come with me. We have to see her, we have to sign some papers." Nadir's voice filled Erik's ears in a mumbled haze. Erik just stared at him, unable to process anything. He was not even sure he was breathing or blinking. "Erik, come... We have to go, we have to-" _

_"No! We don't h-have to go a-anywhere!" Erik violently moved his hand away from The Persian's. Erik's golden eyes were red, full of hot, streaking tears as he slammed his palms against the wall once more. "TAKE ME TO HER! I WANT TO SEE MY WIFE! I want to see her NOW!" Erik's resonant voice shook the light fixtures as the doctor stumbled backwards, fearing for his life. Nadir raised his hands up in defense. _

_"Erik, calm down, you must lower your voice!" The enraged husband lunged at The Persian, his hands flying around his neck. "Er... Get... I... Breathe... Erik..." Nadir squirmed underneath Erik's deathly grip. "Security... Get..." Erik continued to squeeze, unwavering and steadfast. In one fluid motion, Erik was thrown to the ground, his prosthetic leg hitting the tile with a loud clamor. _

_"Get off me you fools!" Erik waved his arms up in the air as he tried to strike the two large security guards. "TAKE ME TO CHRISTINE!" As one officer got Erik to his knees, the other handcuffed the beastly husband. "UNCUFF ME YOU FIEND!" _

_"No, sir! You're causing extreme hazard!" The thick southern accent rang out through the corridor as Erik tried to free himself of the confines. _

_"Take me to my wife right now!" Erik's tears continued to stream down his face. As Erik's head hung lowly, the corridor suddenly fell silent as the familiar doctor approached him. "Please..." Kneeling down, the hazel eyes tried searching the golden ones for an unobtainable answer. _

_"Erik..." The doctor cooed, trying to coax him into calming down for the officers. "Erik, look at me." The golden eyes rose to meet the doctor's. "Can you do me a favor?" _

_"Will you take me to see my wife?" The doctor nodded slowly. "Is she dead? Is my Christine dead?" Erik's tone of voice had exponentially changed. It was that of a young child. He was in disbelief, as if he had just seen the great Houdini perform his most famous escape. As Erik knelt on the tile, cuffed and defeated, the sound of his broken weeping was all that was needed to answer his rhetoric question; the one everyone knew the answer to, but no one wanted to admit to. _

_Erik was truly gone. _

_There was no more Erik, without his Christine._

* * *

"Daroga, how nice it is of you to come to my humble abode uninvited." Erik stepped aside to allow Nadir inside, smiling a cheeky grin.

"Well, since you moved back to Paris, it has been harder to surprise you." Nadir discarded of his hat and coat, shaking Erik's hand. "Where are your children? Did you finally scare them off or bore them to death with your music?"

"Very funny Nadir, you should take up the art of comedy." Erik moved towards the kitchen, filling the kettle with water. "Parker is at school and Isabella is asleep. Your crude humor might awake her, I suggest you keep it at a low volume." Nadir chuckled lightly as he roamed about the living room. "What brings you to Paris?"

"What brings _you _to Paris?" Nadir tapped his nose. "You have been here for a little over a year now, I must say that the city misses you."

"Daroga, I have no need for the over exaggerated hype of New York. My family is here and we are quite happy here." The loud whistle of the kettle interrupted his train of thought. "Besides, my sister and her family too, lives here. It is what Christine would have wanted, for me to be with my family." Nadir walked over to the kitchen.

"Christine's family is in New York, Erik. Her whole life was there. Miss Giry, Raoul and her work was all there, Erik." Erik slammed his palm against the tiled counter. Nadir did not flinch.

"What was I supposed to do, Nadir? Live in the place that breathed her name? Stay in the home that had her fingertips and lips stained everywhere I looked?" Erik's golden eyes pierced The Persian's brown eyes. He did not wear a mask today. "I could not go on there, not when the name Christine was written on everything I owned." Erik wiped away the hot tears that managed to escape with the back of his hand.

"Is she not with you now, then? Have you chosen to completely forget about her?" Erik looked up at The Persian with a furrowed brow.

"I have two children who remind me every goddamn day very well who their mother was and is." Erik pulled out his necklace from underneath his white button up shirt. Popping open the three-fold locket, Nadir smiled softly at the images. "Do they not look like their mother? Do they not breathe her name, honorably and rightly?"

"You are right, brother. Your children are just as she was as is. Especially Isabella, my brother, she looks just like her. She has your eyes, though. Chocolate curls and golden eyes, who would have thought of it?" A gentle smile appeared on Erik's face as he turned to grab two teacups from the cabinet. "Does she speak yet?"

"Small words, my friend. She is only one years old, Daroga." Pouring the tea into the two cups, Erik could hear his daughter waking in the next room. Placing the kettle back down on the stove, he turned on his heel and started for his bedroom with a grin. "She has much still to learn."

* * *

With Parker's seventh birthday just around the corner, Erik was struggling with preparations. He was bombarded with a new operatic piece that needed to be completed for a movie in Sweden, a trade for his business, and taking care of Isabella. As she grew and grew each day, she was beginning to walk. It would be days until she would begin to run and until that day, Erik was up to his neck with work. He could practically hear Christine's voice breathing down the flesh of his throat telling him to hire a nanny, but being the stubborn man he is, he does not trust the work of a nanny or baby sitter. Especially when it comes to the precious subject of his two children. Often times, Parker and Isabelle both end up at Arwen's house after school and nursery. While Erik's long hours at the studio or office keep him late at night during the week days, he appreciates the help of his sister, though he never likes to admit defeat.

"She looks just like Christine." Arwen's thick French accent rang through the kitchen as Erik's sister leaned against the counter. "She has the same hair and skin... It's uncanny, really."

"Yes, it is." Erik looked over upon his daughter playing with her building blocks with a wide grin. She had a smile that could cure the saddest of days. "I have a feeling that when she begins to speak in full length sentences, she will talk just as her mother did."

"Are you dreading that?" Arwen laughed softly, taking a sip of her coffee. "You sound dubious."

"No, I am simply making an observation. Isabella is already a spitting image of her mother at sixteen months old, who knows what will happen when she begins speaking?" Erik nodded once before taking a stride towards the play pen. "I am going to teach her French and American Sign Language."

"What about English?" Erik replied with a blank expression. "What?" Arwen threw her hands up defensively.

"It was implied that she would already know the English language, being that we speak to her in the English tongue, sister." Arwen rolled her eyes.

"Did Christine speak French?" Erik let out a breathy laugh, as if the question was insulting.

"She would not learn the French language if her life depended on it. Just because her last name was French, does not mean she brought honor to it. She lived in New York, after all." Arwen nodded her head. "Christine lived a simple life. Parker was her main concern and if he was happy, then she was happy."

"Was she happy, Erik? In her last days with you, was she happy?" Erik paused in his gait as he approached the play pen where Isabella and her cousin sat, exchanging dolls and building blocks. Glancing towards the blonde beauty, Erik blinked slowly, trying his hardest not to break out in a heart-shattering cry.

"No, she was not." Erik choked out, leaning down to put his daughter into his protective arms. "She was happier, but not happy or content with her life. I was not the best husband to her, I neglected her for so long. She needed me and all she was met with was Nadir's voice, taking a message, simply because I was in the studio or in a business meeting." Erik pressed a shaking kiss onto his daughter's forehead. The soft skin warmed his heart, undoubtedly. "She deserved more, she deserved so much more than I had to offer her."

"That's where you're wrong, brother." The golden temptress sat on the white couch across from the father and his child, her red dress draping over the edge in a sea of fabric beneath her. "Why do you believe her to be unhappy?"

"She would go into fits of rage, scream, and cry whenever I tried to get close to her. We tried therapy, but it was unsuccessful." Arwen nodded slowly. "What? Why are you agreeing with me?"

"You know little about women, Erik. It's a wonder how you got two stunningly magnificent women to marry you." Erik furrowed his eyebrow at his sister, placing his daughter on his lap. "She didn't _need_ therapy. What she needed, was _you_. It was always you. From the day you called her on that sex hot line to the day you said goodbye in the hospital, all she needed was you. Am I wrong?"

"I tried, Arwen! I tried!" Erik's deep voice shook the paintings on the wall as Isabella's curious golden eyes looked upon her father's. "I tried so hard to be there for her, but all she did was push me away, away from her..." Arwen sighed deeply before standing to her feet, the sound of clattering stilettos intriguing the young daughter. "Where are you going?"

"It's time I give you something." Arwen searched through her purse for her keychain, finally finding an old-style key. Walking over to the large wooden desk, she bent over and unlocked it. Sifting through the copious amounts of papers, she finally brought a yellowed envelope to the light. "This is for you, brother." As Arwen sauntered back over to Erik, his eyes widened at the familiar red wax seal, but it was not sealed with a skull. The envelope was sealed with the family insignia Nadir had designed as a wedding gift to the Deslows.

"Who is it from, Arwen?" The sister smiled as she silently handed the letter to Erik. Reaching her arms out, she gestured for the princess in his grasp.

"Don't worry, Erik... I'm just going to take her to the play room while you read." Erik narrowed his eyes at his sister as he skeptically pressed another kiss to his daughter's forehead. Handing off his child to his sister, he leaned back and opened the letter, only to find his breath taken from him.

_My Dear Erik, _

_Everything enclosed in this letter is everything I was too scared to tell you. It's not, because I don't love you. Never for one moment believe that I don't love you. I just never found a moment in our relationship that telling you these things would be applicable. _

_You've told me about your past. You've told me about your mother and your late wife. Yet, you never told me about your life in New York or how you began. It's funny how we never crossed paths. Do you ever think about fate, about the red string of fate that ties two people together? Well, I think about it a lot. I think about how __you_ _were the one call __me_ _that night. That night, I remember it clearly. I was having a horrible day. Cameron had called and demanded to see Parker and after I denied him of that privilege, he ambushed me at work. I didn't want to go home and have phone sex with strangers for the next five hours. That was the last thing I wanted. Somehow, you knew that too. It was like we were meant to be on the phone that night. The fire the next day, was that coincidental? I don't know, but I'm thankful for it. I'm thankful for my herniated disk. It brought us closer. You were so kind to me. You never once made a move on me, despite the obvious fact that you were bathing a wet, naked, woman for weeks on end. You took in my son like he was your own, like you saw yourself in him somehow. Erik, you are our constant angel, whether you believe in fate or not. _

Erik turned the page with a trembling hand. It was stapled on, he observed as his eyes were semi-clouded with tears.

_My Love, _

_If you're reading this, then I'm no longer with you. I've found out that I am pregnant with another child. Usually, a woman would be jubilant and overwhelmed with glee at the news of being with child. I, on the other hand, am very saddened by the news. _

_After Parker was prematurely born at almost three months too early, the doctor's warned me that another pregnancy could be fatal to my health. I never told you, because I didn't want you to worry about me more than you already worried about me. When I found I was pregnant, you had just lost your leg... A leg, your leg. I couldn't imagine what kind of emotional, mental, and physical pain you were in, Erik. I couldn't just bombard you with the news that with my pregnancy there was a high chance of me dying in the end. I was too scared to take that chance. If you must know, I secretly met with Raoul three times a week, to try and elongate my pregnancy as long as I could... To keep me as healthy as possible, while you still were healing. Raoul cautioned me that I was susceptible to another premature birth. Apparently, it ran in the family on my mother's side. After Raoul pulled my mother's records, i found out that I was premature and that is how my mother died in childbirth. My father never told me how she died... I wept for a long time in Raoul's arms. I did not want to die, i never wanted to write a letter such as this one. Who does? _

_If you are reading this, there is a good chance that I am already with my mother and father in heaven. We are looking down on you with love and compassion, for you are a good man. Your wife and daughter shall join me, Erik. They did not die in vain. If I you are reading this, I want you to know that I did everything I could to stay alive for you, for Parker, and for our daughter... Yes, daughter. Please, Erik... I wish for her name to be Isabella, for it was my mother's name. I know whichever name you choose, she will bring beauty and light to it. If you are reading this, I have asked Arwen to keep this hidden away until you are ready to read it. There is a time and place for everything, Erik. Somethings are better left unsaid and somethings are better left written on paper. _

_I wish for you every happiness you can find. You are the most kind, most loving father and husband anyone can ever come to knowing. Do not give up, because I am gone. Do not give up, because you feel like you were never there for me. You were always there for me. Parker loves you with everything he is and our daughter will soon learn that same love. Don't give up, Erik. Please, for me. Don't ever give up on yourself. You deserve life, you deserve love. You deserve forever. _

_Toujours, _

_Christine. _

Erik laid the pieces of yellowed paper beside him, wiping the tears away that followed with the back of his hands. _She _knew. She knew all along that she was sick, that she was going to die. Erik sat on the couch in an overwhelming heap of emotion. What was he to do after reading such a letter? He lost his wife, a loss he could of prevented, had they practiced safe sex. He was angry at himself for not being there enough for her. He could of known this information about her well before the pregnancy, yet he was always too engrossed in work that he never stopped to listen to her health related issues. Was this Erik's fault? Was _she _dead, because of _him? _Erik sat there for a few moments longer before standing to his feet. Still unaware of his feelings towards the letter, he walked to the play room to meet his sister, uneasy about the current events.

"Arwen, were you aware about the contents of that letter?" The golden haired goddess turned around. "Did you know about her birth mother and how Christine _knew _she was going to die?"

"I knew about her birth mother, but I did not know she knew she was going to die. I did not know anyone knew the exact moment at which they were going to pass." Erik leaned against the door frame. "Why do you ask such a philosophical question?"

"Christine knew that Isabella was going to be premature and that she would die in childbirth." Arwen tilted her head. "She wrote that she herself was premature and that her mother died in childbirth, when Christine was born. It is hereditary."

"Human biology is a thing of wonder, brother." Erik huffed.

"She did not care to tell me about this. Did she tell you?" Arwen shook her head. "Did anyone know our family about this issue... This fatal issue? My wife is dead, because of it! I could have prevented her death!" Erik's head was reeling, just as it was one year before.

"Did you check with her little blonde friend, the roommate?" Erik shrugged his shoulders.

"She did not mention her once in this letter. I do not think she knows about my Christine." Arwen pondered for a moment. "She only mentioned Raoul."

"The cute doctor from the wedding?" Erik narrowed his eyes. "He's to die for, simply to die for, Erik! If I weren't married, I would totally go for him!" Erik almost vomited in his mouth. "Well, if he knew, you might want to ask him."

"I am not talking to that imbecilic fop." Erik took a step into the play room with folded arms. "He makes me irate and I rather watch the paint dry on my walls, then hear his voice."

"He could paint my walls with his voice anytime he wants..." Erik slapped his sister's arm. "What? He has the most beautiful eyes!"

"Enough! I do not wish to hear about him!" Arwen laughed loudly at her brother. "What? What is _so _funny?"

"Obviously, your wife confided in him for some reason... Why not find out that reason?" Erik glared at his sister. He hated when she was right and she loved when she proved him wrong.

"That would mean I would have to see him and that in itself, is an exercise in patience, something I do not have." Arwen grinned while pulling out her phone. Handing it to her brother, Erik cringed at the device. He hated speaking on the phone, almost as much as he hated the doctor. Where was Nadir when he needed him?

"Well, you better acquire some before he picks up... I just dialed him. He's on my speed dial."

* * *

**A/N: sorry for the wait. **

**my depression has come back and the stress of college isn't helping. I will try to update more often as I can and am willing. I hope you all are doing well, my Dialers. **

**please read and review. I love hearing from you. stay safe and stay happy. **


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